


Start Infinity Again

by Rynne



Series: My Love Has Two Lives [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Bang Challenge, Crossover, Drama, Epic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 75,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynne/pseuds/Rynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk survives <i>Generations</i> and reunites with Spock. He finds adapting to life nearly eighty years in the future is hard enough, but then a star about to go supernova threatens Romulus, and Kirk and Spock have to deal with Captain Nero and the strange new universe they follow him into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [重启永恒无限](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269275) by [Christywalks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christywalks/pseuds/Christywalks)



> Written for Star Trek Big Bang 2011.
> 
> Amazing art: [HERE](http://jactrades.livejournal.com/18837.html) by **jactrades**  
>  Awesome mix: [HERE](http://zellersee.livejournal.com/20500.html) by **vertrauen**
> 
> Enormous thanks go to **ansley15** , who whipped this thing into shape and whose advice made me so much happier with it. Thank you to **jactrades** for the amazing art, and to **vertrauen** for the awesome mix. Thank you as well to **solara1357** for assuring me the story wasn't as bad as I thought it was, and to **ladyblahblah** , who listened to me talk about it and helped me with some tricky moments.
> 
> This story overlaps with canon in several places. There is dialogue from _Generations_ , dialogue and story from STXI, and quite a bit of the dialogue and story from _Star Trek: Countdown_ , the comic prequel to XI (which makes that movie make a lot more sense, by the way).
> 
> I started this story because I've read a few "Kirk survives _Generations_ and reunites with Spock" stories, though depressingly few, and I've read several "Kirk Prime and Spock Prime are reunited in XI-verse," but I was unable to find any that did what I most wanted. Namely, the "Kirk survives _Generations_ " fics tended to end with his reunion with Spock, but what I really wanted to see was his life after that -- how did he adapt to life in the future? And he wasn't that old in _Generations_ , so if he survived that movie, he could conceivably have lived long enough to be there for the events of XI. No one seemed to have written that story, though -- so I did it myself. I hope you all like it.

_You must know that I do not love you and that I love you,  
because everything alive has its two sides;  
a word is one wing of silence,  
fire has its cold half._

 _I love you in order to begin to love you,  
to start infinity again  
and never to stop loving you:  
that's why I do not love you yet._

 _I love you, and I do not love you, as if I held  
keys in my hand: to a future of joy—  
a wretched, muddled fate—_

 _My love has two lives, in order to love you:  
that's why I love you when I do not love you,  
and also why I love you when I do.  
\--Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XLIV_

  
**One  
2258 - Reboot Universe**   


 

The shaking of the ship drew Jim back to awareness of the physical world -- and the fact that awareness was still possible.

They were alive. Against all odds, and all expectations, they were still alive.

But something was wrong. Different. Off.

"Jim? Are you unharmed?" Spock asked, slowly pulling his hand away from Jim's face. They'd melded when they thought they were about to die, and as glad as he was to still be alive, he still mourned the loss of the absolute closeness of immersion in Spock's mind. He always did, after the end of a meld.

The bond still hummed between them, though, carrying Spock's mental resonance.

"I'm fine," he said, though Spock would already know through their bond. He must have been very shaken if he wanted verbal reassurance. Jim reached out to one of the consoles and pulled himself up, then gave Spock a hand up as well.

"You are disturbed," Spock said, watching Jim closely. He moved to check on the readouts and see what shape the ship was in. Jim automatically looked at the center of the craft, but the red matter still hovered in place, its containment unbreached.

"There's something..."

He'd only felt this sensation a few times. Guinan had told him it was a legacy of the Nexus, explaining she too had a sensitivity to temporal and universal anomalies. They were in one right now, Jim could tell. But what kind of flavor did this one have...?

Ah. The knowledge felt like it snapped into him.

"We've gone back in time," he announced decisively. He didn't know by how much, except it was a significant amount. "So has Nero. And he's altered the timeline." He crossed his arms, leaning against a console.

Spock stepped up to his side. His face and mind were calm, but Jim could see the tension in his frame as he tucked his hands behind his back. "Are you able to determine the extent of the change?"

Jim shook his head. The feelings he got were never so specific. Some things he just knew, without knowing how he knew. "Just that it's affected our lives. The lives of the you and me in this universe. Which means at least we're far back enough to be in my lifetime -- my proper lifetime."

The lifetime he would have lived had the Nexus not interrupted it, and had he not taken it up again when Captain Picard had shown him the way out.

Before Spock could say anything else, though, the ship jerked once again. Spock turned once again to the tactical station, his eyes moving over the readouts before he looked at Jim. "We are caught in a tractor beam," he announced.

Jim turned around to look out the viewscreen, and cursed when he saw the looming ship beside their own.

"They must have been waiting for us," he murmured, staring at the _Narada_.

"A logical assumption," Spock agreed, "when the course of events has been irrevocably altered. They passed through the singularity first."

"Can you tell how far back we are, or what Nero changed?" Jim asked.

"Unknown," Spock replied. His eyes flicked down to the science console and back again. "This ship is not equipped to provide such information. However, I believe we will discover soon enough.

Jim glanced at the _Narada_ outside their viewscreen, and nodded. He sat down at the helm as Spock checked on the rest of the ship. "I'll see if we can break away..."

Jim first tried to move backward, out of the grasp of the larger ship. The _Jellyfish_ didn't budge back even a meter. Their small ship only continued its crawl into the maw of the _Narada_.

They started moving faster as they got closer. The _Jellyfish_ glided through dark, jagged tentacles, and Jim made another attempt at shifting the ship out of the tractor beam. He jerked hard on the controls, trying to maneuver them through one of the increasingly smaller gaps between tentacles.

Again, the ship didn't respond.

The shuttle bay doors opened, beyond which Jim could only see further darkness. The _Jellyfish_ flew through them quickly. Only when the bay doors closed behind them did a sickly greenish light come on in the room.

Jim debated for a moment making a fight of it. He could stay on board and refuse to leave. Certainly nothing good would happen to them out there.

The last thing they needed, though, was Nero and his crew trying to force themselves on board. Any stray shot could breach the containment field surrounding the red matter.

Jim tried to take off again. When that didn't work, he attempted to turn the ship. He couldn't. The tractor beam had them tightly locked down, even within the shuttle bay.

"Well, Spock, shall we go greet our hosts?" he suggested after a moment, with a tilt of his head.

"No alternative actions present themselves at this time," he replied, after a glance at the red matter. His thoughts seemed to mirror Jim's. "Unfortunately, I do not think he will prove exceptionally gracious to guests."

"You're probably right," Jim agreed. A glance out of the viewscreen showed over a dozen Romulans standing outside the _Jellyfish_ , waiting, all of them armed. Jim's stomach twisted.

Part of him urged they go out phasers blasting, and not make their capture too easy on Nero. But he had tamed that urge even before he became captain -- he had learned a long time ago to focus on plans with a real chance of working.

They couldn't even use the ship's phaser banks. The Romulans stood out of range, and Jim couldn't turn the _Jellyfish_ around at all.

They were outnumbered, and, as much as he hated to admit it, outmatched. Jim was seventy-six years old, and Spock over twice that now. They had not been involved in any military ventures for over fifteen years. They had no choice but to surrender.

Jim could see the bitter knowledge in Spock's eyes. But before Spock could make a move to exit the ship, Jim moved forward and took his hand.

"We'll find a way out of this," Jim said. He squeezed Spock's hand. "The situation may not look encouraging, but we've made it through a lot."

"Indeed," Spock agreed noncommittally. But while his voice was impassive, his eyes proved his worry.

Jim could also feel the trouble and apprehension coiling in Spock's mind. He cupped Spock's head and pulled it down until they could rest their foreheads against each other. He let himself experience the vibrant pulsing of the bond between them, and the love and apprehension that traveled along it.

"Well," he murmured, opening his eyes and pulling away. "I suppose we should go now."

Nero met them at the end of the ramp, and the others of his crew close in around them. "Ambassador Spock. Dr. Kirk. So good of you to join us," he said. Disquieting calm seemed to radiate from him. He had not been so calm the last time they'd encountered each other.

"Captain Nero," Spock returned. "We appreciate your hospitality, though we had other plans."

"I think you should cancel them. I have made a few plans of my own, and you're the guests of honor."

"Nero," Jim said, stepping forward. "How long have you been here? What have you done?"

"Done?" Nero crossed his arms. "Not as much as I'm going to do, but it should be enough for you, James Kirk. The two of you will come with me, and I will tell you all about it."

He and Spock exchanged glances, but Nero's statement was not an invitation.

And Jim's uneasiness increased. Nero was calm -- too calm. And there was a glitter in his eyes Jim did not like.

Nero led them to the bridge, his second-in-command Ayel's sturdy presence at their backs a watchful reminder not to try anything. Nero sat down in the captain's chair as they arrived, propping his hand up on one fist. Ayel remained behind them.

The stars streamed past. The _Narada_ had already gone to warp.

"Twenty-five years," Nero whispered, facing the stars rather than his prisoners. "It's been twenty-five years since we emerged from that black hole. Doomed to drift back in time rather than die. Over a hundred and fifty years back in time." He turned to face them suddenly, his eyes locking with Jim's, still filled with that disturbing glitter. "It was the first month of 2233, James Kirk, and the very first thing we came across was a Federation ship. You might have heard of it -- it was the _U.S.S. Kelvin_."

Involuntarily, Jim's eyes widened. That was the ship his parents had been on, when his mother was pregnant with him. The _Kelvin_ had only returned to Earth about a month before he was born. That close call was one reason why his mother had retired from Starfleet.

"You remember it," Nero said. He gave a grin more like a baring of teeth. "I destroyed it."

"I'm dead in this reality, then?" he asked, steadily. He could feel Spock's distress at the idea transmitting across their bond, but he didn't let that affect him.

Nero waved a hand. "You're not, actually," he replied. "I discovered a few months ago your father was left in command, after I killed the captain. Your father ordered its evacuation, just as your mother was giving birth to you. But your father couldn't leave. He stayed on board to try to fight me. And he failed, Dr. Kirk. He sacrificed his life, but I'm still here."

His father, dead. Just as he was being born, from what Nero said.

He couldn't imagine it. His father had been his inspiration for joining Starfleet. He'd been so proud when Jim received his commission for the _Enterprise_ , the youngest captain in Starfleet history. He'd died during Jim's tenure as Starfleet Chief of Operations, and Jim had been able to go to his funeral.

"And the rest of the people on the _Kelvin_?" Jim asked, when he could think of anything besides his father. "They lived, didn't they? They survived to tell their story. That's how you know all these details. My father sacrificed his life, but not in vain."

Nero's expression didn't change, but his eyes flicked to Ayel behind them. Before Jim could even blink, Ayel shifted around so he could backhand Jim across the face. Jim, unprepared, stumbled and would have fallen if Spock hadn't caught and steadied him. The blow, backed by Romulan strength, had been strong enough for his teeth to cut into his cheek and lip, and he wiped blood away from his face.

"Don't gloat too much, Kirk," Nero said. "It might have been better for young Spock there if they hadn't." Now he turned towards Spock, and a sneer twisted his face.

"Your meaning?" Spock inquired politely but shortly. His eyes darted between Jim's bleeding mouth and Nero's mocking sneer.

"The _Kelvin_ survivors," Nero said, "came back to Federation space to report being attacked by a Romulan ship. And they saw my transmission, Spock. They saw my first officer, decades before the Federation had ever seen Romulans in our own universe. Can you guess what they saw?"

Jim could see Nero's point. The _Enterprise_ under his command had been the first ship to establish visual contact with the Romulans, and the resemblance to Vulcans could not be overlooked. One of his own officers had acted unprofessionally with Spock in response.

"Yes," Nero said, seeing the comprehension in their faces. "The Federation began asking questions about the relationship between Romulans and Vulcans. Relations between Earth and Vulcan grew quite strained. I wonder how young Spock has been taking the tension between his two peoples?"

"Speculation serves no logical purpose," Spock retorted, at his stuffiest. Jim swallowed the urge to grin.

Nero's eyes narrowed and he gave a quick jerk of his head. Ayel stepped forward to hit Jim again, this time punching him in the stomach. Jim doubled over, wheezing in pain, and had to put a hand out on the floor so he wouldn't just fall over. Spock's arms started to close around him, but Nero shouted, "Stand back, Spock! Don't touch him, or I'll just have to hurt him again."

"For what purpose do you subject an old man to physical violence?" Spock shot out. His face was impassive, but he couldn't quite mask the anger and worry in his eyes. "If my response aggravated you, I should have been the focus of your aggression."

"Actions have consequences, Spock," Nero said. Jim struggled for breath. His body still pulsed with pain, but he managed to make himself stand up again. "Your lack of action resulted in the death of my wife. I sat here, on the bridge of this ship, as she died. I was completely helpless. Now you get to know exactly how I felt."

His voice sped up as he spoke, and by the end of his speech he practically spat the words at them.

Jim wanted to point out that the two situations were not at all equivalent. He said nothing, though, sure that speaking up would only earn him another punch.

"Speculate with me, Spock," Nero said, turning back to face him. "I don't care if speculation is illogical. Speculate with me about what might have made a difference in the life of your younger counterpart. If it was the survival of the _Kelvin_ crew that led to the tensions between humans and Vulcans, then logically...?"

After a moment, Spock said, "I presume you mean me to conclude that the deaths of the _Kelvin_ survivors would have meant an easier life for my younger counterpart."

"That's right," Nero agreed, his voice full of savage glee. "Survivors that include the counterpart of your husband here. Isn't it _logical_ to then conclude that the death of James Kirk on the day of his birth would actually have made young Spock's life better?"

Utter rage filled the bond between them at the very suggestion. Jim couldn't help a worried glance at him, but the only indication of his fury was the intent, murderous look in his eyes. Jim pressed mentally against Spock, trying to support him with his presence. Spock seemed to take a deep breath and force himself to calm down.

"Your logic is faulty," Jim said quickly, "based on a flawed premise. You are presuming a causal relationship between the survival of my counterpart and the quality of life for Spock's, when you, in fact, are the root cause of--"

Nero cut off his Spock-imitation by making a slashing motion with his hand. This time Jim was not surprised when the back of Ayel's hand once again slammed into his jaw, hard enough to knock him to the floor. Blood once again filled his mouth, and he spat it out at Nero's feet.

Which was, admittedly, not a good idea, because Ayel started kicking him. His full Romulan strength could have shattered Jim's ribs, but even restrained, the blows were explosively painful. He curled into a ball. In the background he could hear Ayel shouting about disrespect.

Then Ayel's foot disappeared. Jim looked up, gasping, to see Ayel backhanding Spock to the ground as well. Spock had leaped to Jim's defense.

Ayel's chest heaved, though more with anger than with exertion, Jim thought. He looked like he wanted to continue beating them, but he controlled himself with a visible effort. Finally he stepped back, and looked at Nero.

"We could so easily kill you like this," Nero said quietly. He slouched in his chair like the past five minutes were completely routine. "You're both old, and Kirk there is as fragile as every other human. Maybe I could kill you without even bruising myself."

That...was not a reassuring speech, Jim thought, as he uncurled himself and inched towards Spock, who had sat up but not yet tried to stand.

"But I'm not going to," Nero said. "Not yet, at least. I have plans for you. I'm not going to disrupt my revenge just because you're being annoying." He looked past Ayel, and ordered, "Take them to the holding cell. I don't want to see them again until we reach Vulcan."

Rough hands grabbed Jim and pulled him to his feet. He hissed an inward breath at the pain. At least one rib was probably cracked, possibly more of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spock grabbed just as roughly.

Jim half stumbled and half let himself be dragged behind the guards. Spock could walk himself, but he kept looking at Jim like he wanted to pick him up and carry him. His eyes softened when they lit on Jim, and his hands clenched beside him as he walked. He kept looking back and forth between their captors and Jim.

The Romulans shoved them into an empty room, living quarters bare of anything useful. The room was small, closer to the size of Jim's quarters on his original _Enterprise_ , and had nothing beyond a bed, a desk, and a chair, all bolted down. There was a place on the desk where the computer terminal had obviously been removed.

The scoured desk, more than anything else, brought home to Jim that Nero had really planned this. He even had a place to act as a cell for them, in lieu of a real brig, which the mining vessel didn't have, no matter what weapons enhancements it had gotten after Romulus's destruction.

"You should not have aggravated Nero," Spock chided him gently, guiding him to sit down on the bed. "I do not have a medical scanner, but I can determine the severity of your injuries with a meld."

"Do it," Jim said, trying to breathe shallowly. He'd fractured ribs before, but years ago, when he was far younger. He'd forgotten how much they hurt.

Spock fitted his fingers to Jim's face and his mind flowed into Jim's with ease, a welcome distraction from the pain. Vulcans had a much greater awareness of their own bodies' workings than humans did, and the bond between them let Spock spread that awareness to Jim's body as well, when they were engaged in a meld.

"Your right seventh rib is broken, though none of your internal organs are damaged," Spock informed him after a few moments. "I do not have any pain medication, nor have the Romulans equipped us with any medical supplies."

"They probably don't think we're going to live long enough to need them," Jim replied.

Spock regarded him calmly, but Jim could see the worry in the depths of his eyes. "You have always been the more optimistic of us," he said. "Do not be fatalistic, Jim."

"I'm not," Jim said with a shrug he immediately regretted. Wincing, he continued, "That's what the Romulans think, not me. Though it's not looking good, Spock."

"Our situation is not agreeable," Spock conceded. "Furthermore, Nero declared his destination to be Vulcan."

"He...did say he wanted revenge on Vulcan for not wanting to save Romulus," Jim reminded him reluctantly.

"Indeed," Spock said. "And now he possesses the red matter."

Jim sighed. "We should never have left the ship," he said. "Maybe we could have defended ourselves."

"Or perhaps a fight could have breached the red matter," Spock countered. "Speculation on what did not happen is pointless. We must deal with what is."

"Lucky us," Jim said caustically. "Have you thought of any plans?"

"I confess I have not," Spock said, moving his hand to cover Jim's. "And you?"

"The first thing is that we need the _Jellyfish_ back," Jim replied, thinking out loud. "And if you know the way back there, _I_ certainly don't. Assuming it's guarded, and we can't assume it's not, we have to overpower the guard completely unarmed. We have to leave this ship, and it would have to be unnoticed, or else they're perfectly capable of towing us back with the same tractor beam they caught us with. And even if all of that happens, we have to somehow deal with the _Narada_ , a ship from the late twenty-fourth century with extremely advanced weapons technology, with only this ship and whatever resources we can manage to find here in the past."

"That is certainly a daunting plan," Spock said, and Jim smiled.

"Daunting, but not necessarily unmanageable, as long as we take it in pieces," Jim said. "It's highly unlikely they left our door unlocked, but why don't you check? I don't think I really want to move again," he admitted with another wince. He could breathe, but not easily. He did force himself to take a deep breath, though, remembering he needed to do that at least once an hour.

A dark look passed over Spock's face, but he rose to check the door and confirmed it was, indeed, locked. "Why did you aggravate Nero?" he asked, returning to the bed. "Silence would have been more logical."

"I just...couldn't let that stand," Jim replied, reminding himself not to shrug. He couldn't even say it had been because he didn't want to let Spock believe Nero's words, because of course Spock hadn't. He'd been as aware of the logic as Jim. "I know it was stupid, but I couldn't let him challenge our bond like that."

"It was not our bond he challenged. His implication was meant entirely for our counterparts."

Jim shook his head. "He said it to get to you. The focus may have been our counterparts, but the challenge was to you, about us. I wasn't even thinking, Spock. I just couldn't let him think we would let that go."

Spock's eyes softened. "T'hy'la," he murmured, and that word carried his understanding.

On Vulcan of ancient times, the warriors who could claim a t'hy'la bond would defend that bond to the death against any and all challenges. Any implication such as Nero's would have been cause for a duel of honor. The meaning of t'hy'la had evolved over the years to include just the more general concept of friend, and could mean simply that, but it was not how Jim and Spock used it with each other.

Spock followed the principles of Surak, but he also recognized that the spirit of ancient Vulcan in many ways ran true in him. He and Jim were not warriors as the ancient Vulcans thought of them, but they had been warriors in their own way. And Jim may not have been a Vulcan, but he was t'hy'la, and he knew exactly what that meant.

And so did Spock, which was why he let it go, as much as he hated Jim in pain.

"So, escape," Jim continued after a moment. "They don't even have a door panel on the room's interior, so we can't cross a few wires there."

"I do not believe our strength is sufficient to force our way through the door physically," Spock said, throwing a considering look at the door. "Even were reinforced doors not typical on starships, Nero seems to have been most thorough in planning our capture and imprisonment."

"So we'll have to make our move in transit," Jim mused, carefully lowering himself to lie on his injured side, which would help him breathe easier. He rested his head in Spock's lap, and closed his eyes. Spock's hand landed lightly on his hair. "Assume two guards like before -- do you think we have a chance?"

"I estimate our odds to be approximately twenty to one," Spock replied. "However, our chances are further reduced by your injuries. You would have difficulty overcoming a young, healthy Romulan even were you in the peak of your health and in your prime, Jim."

Jim grimaced. As much as he hated to admit it, Spock was right. Romulans and Vulcans were simply stronger than humans, and there was no way around it. He still occasionally sparred with Spock, in an effort to keep himself at least somewhat in shape, but Spock rarely used his full strength during their sessions. They sparred mainly for enjoyment and exercise now. Even when Jim was in his prime, though, he'd rarely been able to defeat a Spock who used his full strength.

"What about you?"

"My strength is comparable, but I too am old. My agility is lessened, as is my flexibility. I do not anticipate overcoming our guards, Jim."

Jim sighed, and winced. He'd forgotten about the ribs again. "Well, we can't let that stop us. We have to have a plan, no matter how unlikely we are to succeed. Trying to get past our guards is our best chance. Do you think you'd be able to find our way back to the shuttle bay?"

Spock tilted his head in one of his thinking poses. "I could easily retrace our steps, but such a route would take us to the bridge on our way to the shuttle bay."

"Yeah, we should probably avoid the bridge."

Spock nodded. "I am not overly familiar with this vessel, but based on what I recall of our first voyage on board, I might be able to attempt a path. Furthermore, should we manage to subdue our guards, I could also attempt a light mind meld and take the information from one's mind."

"Do that, then," Jim said. The situation was certainly dire enough to warrant that kind of mental breach. "No good leaving this up to chance -- we probably won't get another opportunity if we fail."

Surprisingly, the first part of the rough plan they'd made went smoothly. Several hours after they'd been locked into the room, two Romulans came to get them out -- the same two Romulans, Jim thought.

Jim stood near the chair when the Romulans came in, and Spock stood on the other side of the desk. The Romulans would have to come further into the room if they wanted to fetch them.

"Come on," one ordered, gesturing with his disruptor. "Captain Nero would like to see you."

"And if we would prefer not to see Captain Nero?" Jim asked coolly. He watched not the disruptor, but the Romulan's chest, which would telegraph any moves he was about to make.

He didn't think they would use the disruptors, anyway. Nero seemed to want them alive, for the moment at least, and most likely even Romulans would prefer ambulatory prisoners than dead weight they would have to carry around if they stunned them.

"You don't have a choice," the other Romulan said. "Now come on." He raised his disruptor, but Jim was pretty sure it was a bluff.

"Thank you, no," Jim retorted, and with a curse, the two Romulans moved further into the room. Then Jim and Spock sprang into action.

The second Romulan moved closer to Spock, who moved in for a nerve pinch. The Romulan evaded him at first, and swung his disruptor to face Spock, but Spock had already raised his arm to knock the Romulan's hand away. With the Romulan off-balance, Spock delivered his quick and efficient nerve pinch.

Jim was only tangentially aware of this, because he had his own Romulan problem. He feigned more pain than he really felt, doubling over with an arm around his ribs to protect them. When the Romulan angled his disruptor to follow Jim's body, Jim moved forward and exploded up, ignoring the pain in his chest. He knocked the disruptor out of the Romulan's hand altogether, though it skittered out of his hold when he tried to catch it. The Romulan dove forward after it, but Jim grabbed his head on his way past and slammed it against the hard metal of the chair. The Romulan crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Jim grabbed the disruptor, though. A quick look at his bondmate revealed Spock with his hand on the Romulan's face, so he picked up the disruptor near them as well. He had to wait only a few moments before Spock opened his eyes and nodded.

Jim handed Spock the other disruptor as they headed out of the room. He kept an arm around his ribs as they moved, trying to support his chest as best he could. Spock took a brief moment to lock the door behind them, then slid an arm around Jim's back to help support him as they walked.

They snuck through most of the ship only seeing a few members of the crew, and shooting the few they did see before the Romulans could call an alarm. Jim would have liked to set his disruptor to stun, but this was too important to leave potential enemies at his back. He had no idea what Nero had planned, but he didn't have to in order to know that it was not anything good. So he shot the few Romulans he saw with a disruptor set to kill, and counted it good that Nero had fewer allies with each person he shot.

They got all the way to the shuttle bay before the Romulans caught up to them in force. Jim didn't know what had alerted them about the escape -- maybe it was the guards not returning, or someone came across one of the bodies. It didn't matter, though. Jim and Spock obviously had to be heading towards their ship, which was most likely why, when they turned the last corner for the shuttle bay, they were confronted with the remaining crew standing in the open space in front of the _Jellyfish_ , blocking the entrance. All of them had disruptors of their own, and Nero stood at their center.

"It's rude for guests to try and leave without telling their host," Nero said, crossing his arms. His disruptor was holstered, but it didn't matter when the rest of his crew had theirs out and ready.

"It's also rude to keep guests against their will," Jim replied.

"Perhaps, but I'm not finished with you yet."

Jim raised his disruptor, and beside him, Spock did the same.

"There's no need for that," Nero told them. "Or do you really think the two of you can take out all of us before we can stun you?"

Jim grimaced, but he kept his hands steady. "We can't let you go through with whatever you're planning," he said flatly.

He aimed at Nero, but one of the crew stunned him before he could shoot. Jim woke up later to burning ribs and a view of the stars. They were back on the bridge.

"We've arrived at Vulcan," Nero said. His eyes fastened on Spock. "I swore I would have my revenge, Spock, and so I will. On you, and on your planet, who allowed mine to die. And now I have the red matter."

"What are you going to do?" Jim asked quietly. His hands and feet were free, but they had taken the disruptors, and there were enough Romulans on the bridge to stymie any possible move.

"I am going to destroy Vulcan," Nero said simply. "And I am going to make you watch."

 _Destroy Vulcan?_ The idea was ridiculous...yet terrifying. Jim believed Nero intended to do exactly that.

And with the red matter, he could.

"Nero," Spock said, speaking quickly. "We are in an alternate timeline. This Vulcan has done nothing to you. Romulus still exists. Do not do this."

"Don't tell me Vulcan has done nothing! _I saw Romulus destroyed!_ " Nero shouted. He spun on his heel and moved until he was inches from Spock's face. "They delayed and delayed until it was too late, and only after Romulus was destroyed and the Federation was in danger did they care about the supernova. Vulcan needs to pay, Spock!"

"It was not this Vulcan, Nero!"

"It doesn't matter!" Nero yelled. "I am going to have my revenge, and you are not going to be able to stop me, either of you! You are going to be completely helpless, as I was completely helpless. And you will be separated."

Jim's heart almost stopped. "What?" he asked in nearly a whisper.

But Nero still focused on Spock. "I'll put you somewhere you can watch, Spock," he commented, in an utterly reasonable tone. "Watch, and do nothing while your planet and the love of your life are taken from you. Delta Vega's close enough for you to have a front-row seat.

"I'm not going to kill you, Spock. You're going to have to live with what happens next, and knowing that you brought it on yourself."

"What are you doing to Jim?" Spock demanded, not responding to the other statements.

"Oh, he's going to stay here," Nero said, still disturbingly calm. "At least until Earth shares the same fate. You'll be separated, and you'll feel him die, and you won't even be able to see him one last time."

"Are you out of your mind?" Jim hissed. Hearing his captors plan his death to his face was nothing new, but this was... God. It was even worse than Khan. At least Khan hadn't been deliberately focusing on Spock in his revenge against Jim. "We tried to help, Nero! We failed, but that doesn't mean we didn't try!"

But Nero ignored him. "Say goodbye to your Jim, Spock," he said. "This is the last time you'll ever see him."

Jim didn't believe that -- he knew they would get out of this somehow, they _had_ to -- but he took the opportunity to lunge forward and throw his arms around Spock, not caring when his ribs protested as Spock responded. They kissed once, too quickly to do anything more than simply taste each other, when Spock pulled back enough to get his hand on Jim's face and draw him into a meld.

But they couldn't do anything more than share their fear and their love. Hands pulled Spock away after only a few seconds, and still more hands held Jim back as he tried to follow. They locked eyes as long as they could before Spock was taken away. All too soon, Jim was on the bridge, alone but for a crew of Romulans who wanted nothing more than to see his husband suffering and him dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two  
2371 - The Nexus**

 

"You don't need to be on the bridge of a starship," Picard implored. "Come with me. Help me stop Soran." He paused. "Make a difference again."

Jim couldn't really say it was like waking from a dream. The Idaho sky was still above him, the earth firm beneath his feet. A sense of unreality persisted, though. He still had difficulty believing this was not his universe, even given the evidence.

Instinct, on the other hand, told him Picard was right.

"How can I argue with the Captain of the _Enterprise_?" he replied, almost wryly. God, the _Enterprise_...how long had it been since he'd even thought of the _Enterprise_? "What was the name of that planet -- Veridian III?"

"That's right."

"I take it the odds are against us, and the situation is grim?"

"You could say that."

"Of course, if Spock were here--" God, Spock. _Spock._ "--he'd say I was being an irrational, illogical human being for wanting to go on a mission like that." Jim grinned. He knew exactly how Spock would sound. "Sounds like fun."

He turned with Picard and just started walking when he stopped. Perhaps the brief mention of Spock gave him pause -- God, how could he have not thought about _Spock_ for who knows how long -- or perhaps it was the instincts of the captain welling up in him again after such a long hibernation.

He'd once been counted one of the greatest tactical minds of his generation. It was pure stupidity to walk into a situation knowing so little.

"Captain Kirk?" Picard turned back to face him. "Aren't you coming?"

"I haven't changed my mind," Jim assured him. "But I think you should tell me a bit more, before we get in the middle of a situation. Unless this is something time-sensitive?"

"I don't think it is." Picard crossed his arms over his chest. "Guinan told me the Nexus is outside of time. We can enter our true reality at a time and place of our choosing."

Jim blinked for a moment, then stared. "A time and place of our choosing -- I could go back to the _Enterprise_ -B!"

Picard said that history considered him dead. His friends considered him dead.

Spock considered him dead.

Spock would have been without him for all those years...if he could have them back.... But Picard shook his head.

"I can't tell what consequences that would have," Picard said with audible regret. "I come from a time where you disappeared on the _Enterprise_ -B. I don't know what would happen to have that changed, and it would still leave me with my problem."

"Maybe your problem won't even exist if I go back!" Jim pointed out, getting excited. If he could get all those years back... "You said eighty years -- that's eighty years I've lost! It's all well and good when we stop this Soran, but what happens to me then?"

Picard closed his eyes. "I don't know," he replied. "All I know is at this moment, Dr. Soran is threatening an entire solar system, and I can't let that happen. I need you to come back with me. The Federation has changed, but it should not be completely unrecognizable."

But Jim knew, with a sense of rising anxiety, it would be. His friends...they'd been getting older when the _Enterprise_ -A was decommissioned. Add another eighty years...

Vulcans lived longer than humans...but he was almost afraid to ask about Spock. Spock had to either be dead or bonded to someone else. Jim didn't know he could live in a universe where everyone he loved was dead and the other half of his soul was bound to another.

For a brief moment, Jim wanted to stay in the Nexus. He felt a terrible longing for _home_. The ground beneath his feet shifted to the steel of a starship floor, the open air changing around him to the walls and consoles of his truest home. The bridge of the _Enterprise_.

"Captain Kirk," Picard began from behind Jim, but Jim ignored him. He walked to the science station and put his hand on the back of the chair as he'd done so many times before.

And just like he had in almost all of those times, its occupant turned to face him. Spock of their time on the _Enterprise_ -A, with wrinkles on his face and the waistline that had expanded as he'd gotten older. Jim had never liked his own weight gain as he aged, but he had never objected to Spock's, just as Spock had never objected to his.

"Is there something you require, Captain?" Spock asked. His tone was a subtle tease, a reminder of all the times Jim had stood by his station with a flimsy pretext just to flirt with him.

The tone was right, but the eyes were not. They were still that beloved warm brown, but somehow...empty. Not without life, but still without Spock, without the true essence of his bondmate.

Jim looked around the bridge, no longer quite as perfect as it had first appeared. The science console and the tactical station had instruments from the original _Enterprise_ , not the refitted _Enterprise_. The communications array looked as it should be, but helm and navigation were a mix of both.

The engines purred beneath his feet in a mix of warp three and warp four. The stars streaming past the viewer were the stars of warp one.

Maybe in the Nexus the illusion was only as good as the depth of your belief. Because Jim knew it wasn't real, it reflected his expectations.

He couldn't stay.

But to go with Picard, who needed him? If he went, those eighty years would be completely gone.

If he tried going back to the _Enterprise_ -B, he might get his life back, but what would it do to the history Picard knew? He was only one man, a speck of dust in an infinite universe, but he knew how much difference one man could make. What he didn't know was how much difference one man _would_ make.

And even if Spock had bonded to someone else, at least he would be the real Spock.

"All right," Jim finally said. "I'll go with you. But are you sure the best time to stop Soran would be right before he implodes this star? If we can go back to any time and place, why not go back long enough that the destruction of an entire system is no longer quite so imminent?"

Picard looked taken aback. "I hadn't thought of that."

Jim wanted to roll his eyes, but he was still diplomatic enough to refrain. And he knew how one could focus on a disaster's immediate cause and forget about the preceding events. "Do you know a better time for stopping him?"

"Yes," Picard agreed slowly. "He was on my ship once, not long before we discovered his plan. We could go back to that time, and stop him before he implodes the Amargosa star."

Kirk nodded and smiled tightly. Once he left, his path would be set. No going back.

"Let's go."

\--

The first thing that struck Jim was pain. Horrifying, nearly debilitating pain.

A pain he knew, though it had been eight years since he'd felt it. It was the pain of a broken bond.

He immediately thought of Spock. Vulcans lived longer than humans, true, but Spock could still have died in the intervening years.

The very thought was almost enough to make him lay down and wish for the Nexus again, or for the hole in his mind to swallow the rest of him. Almost.

But, no. Spock was still alive -- he _knew_ that. The mental wire that linked them as Vulcan bondmates was broken. It lashed against his mind, but Spock was the other half of him. The Vulcan mental bond could be broken, but nothing could destroy the bond between their souls, not even death. And somehow, his soul knew that Spock was still alive.

The pain didn't stop, but Jim could resist it. He'd been in pain before.

Duty got him here. He still had that, at least. There would be time enough to deal with the pain after dealing with this Soran.

Jim blinked, finally aware of his surroundings. Was this...was this a _bar_ on the _Enterprise_?

His _Enterprise_ never had a bar.

"Are you all right, Captain?" Picard hovered close to him. Around him the crew of the _Enterprise_ mingled, some of them glancing towards the two of them.

Some were also starting to stare, more at Jim than Picard. Time to get this over with.

"It's an adjustment. And call me Jim. Apparently it's been eighty years since I was a captain."

"It's still a courtesy title," Picard replied, with a distinct lack of Jim's name. Jim mentally sighed. Respect was great, but it was very hard to make friends with people who wouldn't call him by his actual name. "Soran is by the window. Will you keep an eye on him while I discreetly call Security?"

"Of course," Jim said. He moved closer to the shadows in the room, away from the interested eyes of the crew, but still kept Soran in his line of vision. At least Soran was distinctive, the only one apart from Jim and the bartender not wearing a Starfleet uniform. The uniforms had changed yet again, but were still very clearly uniforms rather than casual civilian dress.

Soran seemed very impatient. He constantly tapped his fingers against the tabletop.

"All right," Picard said, rejoining Kirk. "You hang back," he ordered someone behind him. "Captain Kirk and I will confront him and then you will take him into custody."

" _Captain Kirk?_ Sir--" a deep voice protested, and Jim turned around to see--

\--A Klingon.

In a _Starfleet uniform_.

"What?" Jim said blankly. He was gaping. He knew it. He also found it difficult to stop.

 _Klingons_ in _Starfleet_? A peace treaty was one thing, but this was a level of integration he never would have expected.

The Klingon looked equally surprised to see him. Actually, he looked rather familiar. A lot like the Klingon who had defended Jim and McCoy during their trial on Qo'noS what seemed like mere months ago. "You cannot be Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk died eighty years ago!" he protested.

He didn't speak too loudly, but his voice still carried. Whispers began crossing the room, and Dr. Soran looked up and straight at Jim.

"Damn," Picard cursed softly. "Stay back until I call you, Mr. Worf. Come, Captain."

Even as he followed Picard to Soran's window table, he couldn't resist a glance back at the motionless Klingon.

A Klingon in Starfleet.... Well, the future certainly wasn't boring.

"Dr. Soran?" Picard said upon reaching the table. Jim hung back a little, willing to follow Picard's lead.

"Yes, yes, Captain, thank you for coming," Soran replied. "Something strange seems to have just happened, Captain. What was that about Captain Kirk?"

"I'm right here," Jim added, coming forward. At Picard's gesture, he also took a seat at the table.

Soran looked at him. "Captain Kirk is dead," he said. Jim was already getting tired of that. "You certainly look remarkably like him, though."

"That's the thing, Dr. Soran," Jim replied, steepling his fingers. "I wasn't actually dead."

Soran shook his head. "This is not funny, Captain Picard," he said sharply. "I came here to ask to be let back to my work, not to be inexplicably paraded with some sort of actor playing a long-dead Starfleet officer."

"Ah yes, your work," Picard said, leaning forward. "I know all about your work. This is why Captain Kirk's presence here is relevant."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Are you interested in knowing how is it I'm not dead?" Jim asked. He glanced at Soran, then looked away into the stars. He'd missed this view. "As it happens, I haven't even _been_ in this universe for the pasty eighty years. During the hull breach on the _Enterprise_ -B, I was sucked into another one." He turned his attention back to Soran and watched him closely. "A universe called the Nexus."

"And you might be interested," Picard came in saying, "in knowing how Captain Kirk managed to come back into this universe and why we are both talking to you now."

Soran fell silent. After a moment, Picard continued talking. "Dr. Soran, this is not the first time I sat down at this table to speak with you. The first time I had, however, I did not know your plans for the Amargosa star -- or the star in the Veridian system."

"You do know, then," Soran said. Jim thought he could hear an undertone of anger, but if it really existed, Soran masked the emotion well. "And you know what I want."

Jim leaned forward. "It's not worth it," he told Soran softly. He looked at the stars again, and then around at the crew. They weren't listening in on their captain's conversation, but they knew something was happening. They stayed alert and ready for action.

Even the bartender had come out from behind the bar to watch the three of them at their table.

"You know nothing," Soran spat, his eyes hot on Jim.

"I was there too," Jim reminded him. "Captain Picard told me for eighty years. That's eighty years of my life I lost to that thing."

"Lost!" Soran laughed darkly. "I begin to think you weren't there at all."

"I was happy there," Jim informed him softly. He kept his eyes on the stars. "Of course I was. My life was peaceful, and I had a beautiful woman who loved me. But it wasn't my _life_ , Soran. Now I'm out, I can think back to Antonia and remember that here, in the real world, she was just a woman I met visiting my uncle once. I thought her beautiful and kind, but that was all. The Nexus manufactured everything else."

"But you were happy! What did it matter if it wasn't real? You could have been happy _forever_!"

Jim's fingers twisted tighter around each other. "I need more in my life than just happiness," he said, "especially if it doesn't come from me. The Nexus couldn't even replicate the people who meant the most to me."

"Oh, that's all well and good for you," Soran hissed. "The great James Kirk. How many times have you saved your home planet? Mine was _gone_ , Captain Kirk. My family was dead. The Borg killed them all."

The Borg? Jim glanced at Picard, who shook his head slightly. Well, he'd get an explanation later. "But your life wasn't over, Soran," he continued. "You aren't the only one who's ever lost something. It's difficult to rebuild, but it's not impossible."

Soran crossed his arms. "I've heard this all before, Kirk," he said. He sounded tired now, but still determined. "Enough of my fellow refugees have told me the same thing. But it doesn't matter."

"It does," Jim insisted. "You don't have to do this."

"I was right before. You really don't know." With that he dove around Jim, rolling and springing up again before starting to run.

"Worf!" Picard ordered and Worf stepped in front of Soran. Soran was quick, but Worf had positioned himself perfectly. He was also strong enough to keep Soran immobilized.

"Take him to the brig, then report to the observation lounge," Picard continued. "There is...quite an interesting debriefing ahead. Guinan, if you'll come as well?"

He turned to face the bartender, who nodded, but kept her eyes on Jim. Jim felt a strange prickle along his spine, and suddenly he knew she'd been in the Nexus, and on the _Enterprise_ -B.

\--

"So this is really Captain James Kirk?" asked the first officer, a man introduced as Commander William Riker, after Picard wound his story to a close.

"Yes," Picard affirmed. Jim didn't reply.

The confrontation was over. Jim knew he should be here and answer questions, since he remained the only existing proof of Picard's story, but it was hard to focus on the conversation.

His head throbbed, the broken bond like a fraying wire with ends dugging into him. The emptiness beyond the bond was even worse. And he felt so tired, almost enervated.

"He's in pain," one of the women said. Jim focused on her. She'd been introduced as Deanna Troi, ship's counselor. Her eyes were black, and Jim realized she was Betazoid. Of course she could feel his broken bond.

"From what?" asked the other woman, Dr. Beverly Crusher.

Jim finally spoke. "Nothing you can help with," he told her. "It's mental."

"Is it a reaction to leaving the Nexus?" Picard asked. He sounded worried. Jim was touched. Jim had really caused a lot of trouble for Picard, even if he'd also helped. "I'm not in pain, but I wasn't there anywhere near as long."

Dr. Crusher moved closer and waved the familiar medical scanner over him, but he brushed it aside. "I know what it is," he said, "and it's not important right now. Is there anything else you need from me?"

The room was silent for a moment. "Is there anywhere in particular you would like us to take you?" Picard finally asked. "There aren't many people we could call. We could try to get through to Ambassador Spock on Romulus--"

"Spock is alive?" Jim interrupted, his voice harsh with relief and other suppressed emotions. Spock -- Ambassador Spock now -- was alive. He'd still felt Spock's soul, but he breathed an internal sigh of relief to hear it confirmed, even as it led to questions he now had time to ask.

What broke the bond? Was it just being torn between universes? Jim conceded that probably would be enough.

He let out a breath and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Spock was alive. Alive, and...on Romulus.

"Romulus?" he asked, before anyone could confirm his first question. "Is the Federation at peace with them too now?"

"No," the Klingon, Worf, said shortly. "The Romulans--"

"Thank you, Lieutenant Commander Worf," Picard interrupted. "Ambassador Spock has been attempting to unify the Vulcans and Romulans for the past three years, on the basis of their shared ancestry. They have finally allowed him to live there openly, though it is unknown what other progress he has been making."

Romulus. Of all the places...

Even for having been out of the loop for eighty years, this was a lot to absorb. The way his broken bond throbbed stronger at the mention of Spock didn't help.

"Captain Montgomery Scott is also alive," the chief engineer, Geordi LaForge, added. "He had to put himself into stasis a few years after your disappearance. We found him a couple years ago."

A small smile flitted across Jim's face. At least Scotty was still around and would understand what Jim felt.

But he still needed to know about Spock.

"Can you get a connection to him?" Jim asked. "Spock, I mean."

"I cannot guarantee that Romulus will accept a communication from the _Enterprise_ ," Picard said. "But I will do everything in my power to contact Ambassador Spock for you, Captain."

"Even if you have to take me there yourself?"

Picard met his eyes. "Hopefully it will not come to that, but yes. Even if I have to take you there myself."

Jim nodded. He'd already become acquainted with Picard's determination, and Picard wouldn't be the captain of the flagship with a loyal crew if he weren't also a man of his word.

"What about Soran?" Jim asked. "The crimes you witnessed have now happened in a future that won't exist. What can we do with him?"

"He still stole trilithium from the Romulans and has been conspiring with the Duras sisters to destroy several star systems," Worf growled with an undertone of controlled anger. "He will not go free."

"But that won't fix his problem," Guinan said, speaking for the first time. "He wants to get back to the Nexus. If he hasn't stopped before now, not even this is going to make him stop trying. And he's El-Aurian. He has centuries left to _keep_ trying to get back."

"Soran's fate is not for us to decide," Picard said, ending the debate. "We will turn him over to the courts. That's all we can do."

Jim wouldn't have minded sending him through a hull breach straight into the Nexus, but he knew he had no authority here. This wasn't his ship. Picard was the captain of the _Enterprise_ now.

Picard dismissed them soon after. On her way out, Guinan put a hand on his shoulder. "Come to Ten Forward before you leave," she told him. "I'd like to hear about your experiences, if you're willing to share them. For now, though, I think there's someone else who can give you better help."

She gestured her head towards Deanna Troi, who had also hung back as everyone else left. "I might be able to help with your pain, Captain," she said. "It's a broken telepathic bond, isn't it?"

Jim leaned back in his seat. "How did you know?"

"I'm only half-Betazoid," she said, "and my empathic skills are much greater than my telepathic. Still, I know what a bond feels like. I won't be able to heal yours entirely since it's not Betazoid, but I should be able to block the pain until you can find a Vulcan healer."

A corner of his mouth twitched up. "Does your empathy tell you that, or did you already know?"

"I sensed your strong emotions at the mention of Ambassador Spock. History also records the two of you as being very close. He followed you throughout your career and you retired when he did. I guessed."

"Good guess."

She looked at him with calm black eyes, and he resisted the urge to look away. He never had been fond of seeing his own ship's counselor, even when Bones insisted on it. He didn't like exposing his pain for anyone else to see.

But Troi was an empath, and the shields Spock had taught him were shot thanks to the chaos of the broken bond. He couldn't exactly hide it from her.

"Well, do what you can. I don't want to be in pain until I can get to Vulcan."

"I don't think it would take that long," she said, and she moved closer. She put her hands to his face, on nearly the same meld points Vulcans used, but her mental touch was nothing like the Vulcan mind meld. It was only a touch, the feel of a cooling breeze, rather than a merging.

The breeze against the bond felt like wind did on a hot day -- so refreshing that for a moment he could forget the heat. But the wind stayed longer than just a moment, and Jim soon realized that it was creating a barrier, of sorts, between the frayed ends of the bond and the rest of his mind. Even when Troi removed her hands, the barrier stayed.

"Thank you," he said when she finished, and she smiled at him.

"I'll take you to guest quarters," she said, "and set you up with access to the history banks."

"That would probably be useful," he agreed.

When she'd shown him to his quarters, he shook his head at the size. The captain's quarters on his first _Enterprise_ , before the refit, could probably fit into just the living room here. He'd even seen children on his way through the halls.

This _Enterprise_ was undeniably comfortable and sophisticated, but he felt a pang of sharp homesickness for his own sleek lady.

"Would you like to talk further with me?" Troi asked as she watched him look through the rooms. "I may not be able to help in as concrete a way as with your bond, but this whole experience must be quite a shock to you."

He barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. "That's one way of putting it," he said. He almost said he would be fine by himself, but he stopped before he could.

Yes, she was a counselor, and this was her job, rather than the act of a friend. But he had no one else right now, not even Spock's presence in his mind.

He was stuck in this century now. The least he could do was try to make friends.

He sat down in a chair and gestured for her to sit down as well. She sat, still watching him.

"Spock is married again, isn't he." It wasn't a question. Spock had to be with someone, or pon farr would have long since killed him.

"Yes," Troi said. "He is married to Admiral Saavik, though their duties do not permit them to spend much time together. I do not know if that is their preference."

Jim closed his eyes. Saavik. So she was an admiral now? Good for her.

He felt torn between bitter jealousy and great relief. He was of course grateful Spock still lived, and moreover that he hadn't spent all those decades alone. Jim had always known Spock would outlive him, and he never would have wanted Spock to spend the rest of his life unhappy.

But it was one thing to know Saavik had assuaged his pon farr on the Genesis planet, once, when he hadn't even had his katra and surging hormones inspired by too-rapid growth had nearly torn his body apart. It was another thing to know Saavik had married him, had likely been married to him longer than Jim had.

And he had no idea how Spock felt. He only knew they didn't spend much time together. Even if he loved Jim more than he loved Saavik, he wouldn't necessarily be willing to -- to divorce Saavik and bond with Jim again.

"Talk to me, Captain," Troi said softly. "I can feel your mixed emotions, but I can't do anything unless you talk to me."

"Call me Jim," he said. "I'm not a captain anymore. I retired from Starfleet eighty years ago, remember?"

"But you are still a captain, aren't you?" she said. "It's a courtesy title even for retired officers, but it's more than that, for you. You were very attached to your captaincy."

"I made a difference there," he replied, looking down at his hands. "I wasn't at my desk all day, like after they promoted me. I could actually _do_ something."

"Is being able to see the results very important to you, then? You have to know you made a difference as an admiral, even if you couldn't see that directly."

Jim shook his head, though not in negation. "I'm more useful as a captain. I won't say anyone could have done my job as Chief of Operations, but I always felt Starfleet and I were both better off with me in the captain's chair."

"But you're retired now, and even if you weren't, you're eighty years behind," she pointed out. As if he didn't already know that. "And it's a different galaxy now, Jim. Do you think you would still be most useful in the captain's chair?"

He rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe. Maybe not. But you're right. I don't think I'll be joining Starfleet again."

"Did you have plans for your retirement?"

He huffed out another laugh, though this one was somewhat lighter. "I'd planned to spend time with Spock a red alert couldn't break. I'd planned to put him first for the rest of my life -- or at least, to do put him first without feeling guilty. Beyond that, no, I didn't really have any plans."

"Maybe that's where you want to start," Troi advised. "We can get you more information about the twenty-fourth century. What you need to do is decide how you want to live here, and how much you can tie to Spock."

Jim nodded, because he knew that. He had to build a life, and making plans was a good place to start, something to keep him busy.

But he knew he needed, and would always need, Spock more than anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three  
2258 - Reboot Universe**

 

Nero seemed to ignore Jim after Spock had been taken away, other than ordering him bound. He didn't even order him taken off the bridge.

A Romulan bound Jim's wrists behind him in chainless cuffs. Standard cuffs he might have been able to get out of, given all the different protrusions on the bridge he could potentially use to pick the locks. He couldn't even get his wrists to bend in these. He was stuck in them.

He watched Vulcan out the viewscreen instead as Nero ordered the drill ready and lowered. He didn't know exactly what Nero's plan was, but he could guess.

Drill to the center of the planet, then launch the red matter. The red matter would implode on contact with the matter in the planet's core and create a singularity that would consume the entire planet.

Nero was insane. He had to be. Spock had told him once that madness had no logic, but it did have reasons. There was no logic to Nero's actions, and as Jim had already seen, no reasoning with him.

They could only find a way to stop him.

Jim didn't know how long the drill would take to reach the center of the planet, but he sat there in a corner of the bridge, coming up with and discarding plan after plan. God, if his hands had even been bound in _front_ of him, he might do something. As it was, he wasn't flexible enough anymore to work his hands around to the front without dislocating his shoulders.

He was helpless.

He sat there for hours, and wished for something to happen to change things around enough to give him some sort of chance. When something finally happened, Jim immediately wished it hadn't.

Seven Federation starships warped into view. Constitution-class, Jim thought, though they were bigger than the class he knew the best. Jim, who couldn't even see Nero's face from his position, nonetheless heard the utter glee in his voice when he ordered, "Fire disruptors and torpedoes. Don't let a single ship escape."

Jim watched what ensued in absolute horror. He couldn't do anything -- he tried, after the _Narada_ 's advance weaponry tore one ship to pieces in seconds. When he approached one station, the Romulan standing there shoved him back less than gently. He tried twice more at different stations with the same result, even when he tried surreptitiously hitting a few buttons. Finally, his ribs throbbing again from the shoves, he sank down in his corner again and watched, determined to bear witness if he couldn't do anything else.

In less than twenty minutes, Nero had decimated all seven ships. They'd raised their shields and started attacking as well, but the _Narada_ had far more powerful shields, and nothing got through.

In less than twenty minutes, seven Constitution-class starships were reduced to debris floating around Vulcan.

Not even minutes after such devastation, another starship warped onto the scene. The _Narada_ started firing on this one as well, though it had its shields up and fared somewhat better than its fellows had.

Then Nero roared, "Wait!" The Romulans stopped firing and Nero ordered, "The hull -- magnify!"

Jim's heart skipped a beat when the screen zoomed in. Emblazoned on top of the saucer was NCC-1701 U.S.S. ENTERPRISE.

It was the _Enterprise_. _His_ _Enterprise_. Not one of the later ships to bear that name and designation, but the original one.

"Hail them," Nero ordered, and then just seconds later the bridge of the _Enterprise_ appeared on the screen.

Jim's first reaction was a minute slump in disappointment. It was not his _Enterprise_. It might have been a Constitution-class ship, and the first one to bear the designation NCC-1701, but the bridge gleamed white and far too bright, and had more room than his own. There were flat screens in the middle, and more stations. The captain's chair was shaped and colored differently.

A few seconds later, he forgot his disappointment. He hadn't been expecting to see himself in the captain's chair -- Nero had said earlier he'd been in this universe for twenty-five years since 2233, meaning the current stardate was 2258, seven years before he took command.

He hadn't been expecting to see himself, but he did. He stood behind the captain's chair, oddly not dressed in uniform, but unmistakably himself at age twenty-five.

Why was he on the _Enterprise_? He'd been on the _Farragut_ at that point. And -- dear God, was that Sulu and Chekov at helm and navigation? They hadn't joined until he was captain! Chekov shouldn't even be old enough to serve on a starship yet! And he thought he could see Spock and Uhura at science and communications, and Bones hovered near his younger self--

How much had this universe changed? These people shouldn't have even met for years yet.

"Hello," Nero said, with a banality that made Jim feel slightly sick at how ridiculous and inappropriate it was.

The captain, who Jim recognized only belatedly as Chris Pike, replied sternly, "I'm Captain Christopher Pike, to whom am I speaking?"

"Hi, Christopher, I'm Nero," Nero returned, still as calm and polite as if he hadn't been shooting at them moments before.

"You've declared war against the Federation," Pike said in commanding tones. "Withdraw. I'll agree to arrange a conference with Romulan leadership at a neutral location."

"I do not speak for the Empire," Nero replied, the politeness gone from his voice. "We stand apart. As does your Vulcan crew member, isn't that right, Spock?"

 _Spock_. He was so _young_. He stood up from his chair at the science station, coming around to stand closer to the viewscreen. "Pardon me," he said, "I do not believe that you and I are acquainted." His voice sounded higher-pitched than Jim's Spock's did. He was actually not even fully grown yet by Vulcan standards, Jim realized. His face was even somewhat rounder, not yet matured into the angles he would later have.

How utterly strange to see Spock at this stage of his life.

"No, we're not," Nero replied. "Not yet." He paused for a moment. "Is that James Kirk? You shouldn't be on the _Enterprise_ yet."

The younger Kirk also came around to stand closer to the viewscreen as other people on the _Enterprise_ bridge turned to look at him. "Excuse me?" he asked, and Jim started at hearing his own younger voice. "How do you know me?"

Nero turned to look at Jim, still in his corner on the _Narada_. This was utterly surreal.

But Nero didn't let on that he had an older version of James Kirk on his ship. "I looked you up," he told the younger version. "Spock and Captain Pike served on the _Enterprise_ at this point, but you didn't until 2265."

"You're from the future?"

Nero ignored him and turned his attention back to Spock. "Spock, there's something I would like you to see," he said, then addressed Pike. "Captain Pike, your transporter has been disabled. As you can see by the rest of your armada, you have no choice. You will man a shuttle, and come aboard the _Narada_ for negotiations. That's all."

And he cut the frequency before anyone on the _Enterprise_ could respond.

"What are you doing?" Jim demanded, moving out from his corner. "Nero?"

But Nero ignored him except to tell Ayel, "Bring him to the interrogation room. I want to see what kind of effect he'll have on Captain Pike. I'll meet Pike myself at the shuttle bay."

"Yes, sir," Ayel said, and took hold of Jim by the arm. Jim thought about wrenching himself away, but knew it wouldn't do him any good.

Interrogation. Jim shivered, though from what he could tell, he wasn't the one to be interrogated. He had nothing useful to be drawn from him, fortunately.

But Pike...as a starship captain, he would hold some of the keys to Starfleet's defenses. That had to be what Nero wanted. Vulcan had been confident enough not to have a planetary defense system, which was how Nero had already started drilling before the Federation took notice.

Earth, as the headquarters of Starfleet and where the president of the Federation resided, did have planetary defenses. The Federation Council, too, based itself on Earth. Earth had not seen any serious threats in decades and wouldn't until the V'Ger crisis, but it still maintained defenses.

And Nero had proclaimed his intention to destroy Earth after he destroyed Vulcan. Had gloated that he'd put Jim down there to be consumed by the singularity that would devour his planet.

Ayel pulled Jim into a large room with as many unidentified apparatuses as every other part of this blasted ship. Jim didn't know much about mining, but he was pretty sure a mining vessel would not typically have rooms set out for interrogation. Yet more evidence that Nero had planned this carefully. But speaking with Captain Pike had been almost coincidental. Nero had been willing to destroy the last ship until he'd realized it was the _Enterprise_. How had he been intending to get past Earth's planetary defenses then? Or had he just been going to blast his way through? Judging by how he'd decimated the armada above Vulcan, he probably wouldn't have had any more trouble with Earth. That was a disturbing thought.

Not that anyone was typically prepared for technology from the future.

Ayel hooked Jim's handcuffs against a pillar in the center of the room, though Jim couldn't see what he did to secure them. He heard a faint click, but didn't see any sort of key in Ayel's hand. Ayel pulled at Jim's arms, but the cuffs held -- he couldn't get away from the pillar. And he would have to stay in a standing position for who knew how long. He hadn't been imprisoned like this for a very long time. He had not particularly missed it.

When Ayel finished securing Jim, he stood there, obviously waiting for Nero. Jim stared back at him. "What do you think of Nero's plan?" he asked after a moment. Ayel glanced at him, but said nothing. "Romulus still exists," Jim said, trying again. "You don't have to do anything to Vulcan. All you have to do is deal with the Hobus star before it goes supernova in a hundred-some years and Romulus will be just fine."

But Ayel still did not reply. Were all of Nero's crew as insane as their captain, or just loyal? Jim understood loyalty, but there was a point when it needed to be broken. Attempted genocide was certainly one of those points.

Jim was going to try again, but before he could do more than open his mouth, the bottom dropped out of his world. He was caught a maelstrom of pain. Every sense in Jim's body felt like it screamed _the universe is wrong_. His bond with Spock, even muted by distance, transmitted a sort of broken-glass slashing mental agony.

Jim came back to himself a few moments later to find himself hanging by his wrists, his legs having collapsed without him realizing. He got his feet back under him, slowly, trying to put off the horrifying realization a few seconds longer. Then he had to face it.

Nero had destroyed Vulcan. He'd actually gone through with his plan. The timelines had screamed at Jim as it happened, and Spock's anguish at losing most -- surely not all -- of his race in one blow blasted across the bond, too strong for the distance between them to matter. Spock had once been severely shaken at just feeling a ship full of Vulcans die...to feel the destruction of his entire planet now...

Jim couldn't even find words.

"These Vulcans did _nothing_ to you," he hissed at Ayel, his voice hoarse, as if from screaming. Had he screamed? He didn't know. "That was an entire planet full of _innocents_!"

"So was mine," Ayel said simply, and Jim actually shook with rage.

"We didn't murder them! We were just too late to save them!"

"So you say," Ayel said. Then he turned away, the conversation clearly closed.

God, Spock. The need to be with him now rushed through his veins with his blood and it very well might have been the greatest cruelty in Jim's long and full life that he was prevented. Spock needed him now, and he wasn't there.

Jim had not hated Nero before this. Early on he'd felt pity for him, pity later transformed to a mixture of anger and fear in the early hours of his imprisonment. After Nero had taken Spock away, he'd felt more of a dull anger and numbness, compounded by disbelief that this could actually be happening.

He hated Nero now. There were not many beings Jim could honestly say he hated. For what he'd done to Vulcan and to Spock, though, an overarching hatred for Nero settled into Jim's bones.

Only a few minutes later, Nero came in, followed by two of his crew holding Chris Pike between them. How long had it been since he'd seen Christopher Pike, healthy and whole? At least forty-five years. Yet here he stood, probably about forty-five himself.

"Who is that?" Pike demanded, catching Jim's eye briefly. "Is that another human? How did you get hold of another human?"

"Don't worry about him," Nero said. "You're the only human from your Federation who I've picked up." Then, to his crew, "Put him on the table. Strap him down. Ayel, go and supervise the drill." Ayel nodded, and left.

"You said negotiations, Nero! These are not negotiations--"

"They are," Nero interrupted. "They're just not ones where you have any power. I am going to tell you what I want, and you will give it to me."

"I'm not going to say anything until you tell me where you got that man."

Jim had never really had a chance to see Captain Pike in action except in Talosian memory. He had a pretty impressive command presence, for all he was in hostile territory and strapped to a table.

"You want to know who he is? Fine. He's one of the men who allowed my home to be destroyed."

"I don't understand. How--"

But Nero shook his head. "That's not how this is going to go. You must have a lot of questions. I only have one for you. I need the subspace frequencies of Starfleet's border protection grids. Specifically, those surrounding Earth." Pike didn't respond, turning his face away slightly. "Christopher, answer my question."

"First you answer for the genocide you just committed against a peaceful planet," Pike replied savagely.

"No, I prevented genocide!" Nero denied, exultant. "In my time, where I come from, this is a simple mining vessel. I chose a life of honest labor to provide for myself and the wife who was expecting my child." He walked around the table to press a button and put up a hologram of a smiling Romulan woman. Nero's wife, Jim recognized. "I was off planet, doing my job, while your Federation did _nothing_ and allowed my people to burn while my planet broke in half. And Spock, he didn't help us, he betrayed us. He and Kirk--"

"We tried, Nero!" Jim shouted. Nero and Pike both turned to look at him. "We just didn't get there in time. That doesn't mean we betrayed you!"

"Spock promised," Nero spat at him. "He promised he would help us, and he lied. Thanks to him, thanks to the both of you, my planet was destroyed!"

"No, you're confused, you've been misinformed," Pike said, stammering through the words in haste and obvious horror. "Romulus hasn't been destroyed, it's out there right now, you're blaming the Federation for something that hasn't happened--"

" _It has happened!_ " Nero yelled, suddenly erupting. "I watched it happen, I saw it happen, don't tell me it didn't happen!" He paused for a moment to regain control of himself. "And when I lost her, I promised myself retribution. For twenty-five years I planned my revenge against the Federation, and forgot what it was like to live a normal life. But I did not forget the pain. It's a pain that every surviving Vulcan now shares. My purpose, Christopher, is not simply to avoid the destruction of the home that I love, but to create a Romulus that exists free of the Federation. You see, only then will she be truly saved. That is why I will destroy all the remaining Federation planets, starting with yours."

"Then we have nothing left to discuss." Pike turned away, though he caught Jim's eye again.

Nero moved off to the side of the table, where he had a container and tongs set on a table. He picked up the tongs and drew a squirming, horned insect out of the container. "You will give me the frequencies to disable Earth's defenses." He held the wriggling insect higher, where Pike would be able to see it. "Santorian slugs. They latch onto your brain stem and release a toxin that will force you to answer." He came closer to stand by Pike, holding the slug above his mouth. "Frequencies, please, sir."

"Christopher Pike, captain, _U.S.S. Enterprise_ ," Pike began, the litany of name, rank, and serial number every captured Starfleet officer was supposed to give in the face of interrogation.

But when Pike's mouth was open during his litany, Nero dropped the slug in.

"Hold him down," Nero told the two of his crew members who had stayed close by during his discussion with Pike, just as if Pike were not screaming and thrashing about on the table.

"Nero!" Jim yelled. "That's torture! Pike hasn't done anything!"

Not looking away from Pike's writhing body, Nero replied, "Torture has been a way of gaining information for millennia, Kirk. You know that. And as for not having done anything -- he's from the Federation. That's enough."

"Nero--"

"Be quiet," Nero said, looking at him suddenly, "or I will have you silenced. And I do not think you will like my manner of silencing you."

Jim shut up.

Jim's stomach twisted as Pike's screams died away into loud pants, and then into nothing louder than simple breathing as the slug injected its toxin. His stomach twisted further as Pike, his face and voice both blank, told Nero everything he wanted to know.

They didn't remove the slug when they finished. "The toxin will wear off in a few minutes," Nero tossed off casually as he left, "but I don't think trying to remove the slug will be worthwhile. When we get to Earth, I think the both of you are due for one last visit home."

"What is that slug going to do to him? Nero!"

But Nero left without answering. Jim was alone with Pike, who still twitched in pain.

Jim let five minutes pass before he spoke, hoping the toxin wore off in that time. "Chris?" he said. "Are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I've been better," came the groaning reply. "Though I don't know what you can do for me unless you can get me off this ship."

"I would if I could figure out a way to get myself away as well," Jim said wryly. "As it is, we're in a similar predicament."

"Well, I wouldn't mind finding out how you got into this predicament," Pike invited. He shifted on the table before he stilled himself. Jim guessed he wanted to keep himself distracted. "I've been in a few myself, but I can't think of many that have been worse."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "I've been in some pretty hairy situations, but not many have been near this dire. Or have involved the destruction of an entire populated planet. Some, but not many."

Pike chuckled, then gasped. "So, who are you?" he asked. "Nero's from the future, right? And you?"

Jim sighed. "And me," he confirmed. "The short story is, a supernova threatened Romulus. Spock and I volunteered to carry red matter to neutralize it, but too late to save Romulus. Nero blamed us, but we still injected the red matter into the supernova to stop it from traveling further and destroying more planets. The red matter created a black hole, which drew both Nero and us inside, and we found ourselves here."

"Your story would be pretty unbelievable if I weren't living it," Pike said after a moment. He blew out a sharp breath. "Time travel. Right. He got here before you?"

Jim nodded. "He entered the black hole first. We entered the black hole only seconds after him, but apparently those seconds translated into a gap of twenty-five years in this timeline. He changed so much in just that time." He tilted his head back against the pillar, closing his eyes.

The _Kelvin_. The tensions he described between humans and Vulcans. And now Vulcan itself.

Pike coughed. "You didn't say who you were. Nero mentioned Kirk, but..."

"But?" Jim asked. "I am James Kirk. A good fifty years older than the one you know, but still James Kirk." He shook his head and mustered a grin. "You have no idea how disconcerting it is to see yourself at twenty-five. I've seen some pretty strange things, but that is definitely up there."

"It's pretty disconcerting seeing a promising young cadet fifty years on. Are you still with Starfleet?"

"No, I retired years ago." Jim blinked. "You said cadet? I'm -- he's -- a cadet right now?"

"Yeah -- almost done, though. He claimed he'd do the program in three years, and hell if he hasn't actually managed. He's smarter than he likes to pretend."

Jim wished he could shift to a more comfortable position, but his cuffs held him fast. "More differences between our universes, then. I entered the Academy when I was seventeen. At twenty-five I was a full lieutenant, and tactical officer on the _Farragut_."

"I don't think the Kirk I know realized he wanted to be in Starfleet quite so early," Pike said carefully. "I get the impression he resented the service for a long time because it took away his parents."

Jim sucked in a breath. "Mom? Did something happen to Mom, too?" he asked quickly. "Nero told me about Dad and the _Kelvin_ , but he said Mom survived--"

"Winona's fine," Pike assured him. "She was just off-planet pretty often when Jim was a kid. I think he resented that. You mean you grew up with your father?"

Jim shook himself. The panic had been brief, but still disturbing. This universe had so many little changes -- not even his time in the mirror universe had felt so strange. The mirror universe had been just too different for him to feel a connection, but this one was close -- just off.

"Yes," Jim answered. "He'd died when I was in my forties. My mom only lasted a few years after that. She'd loved him very deeply."

"She did," Pike agreed. "She handled it for young Jim and his brother, but it's been pretty difficult for her."

Poor Mom. But, she was still alive here. He could see her. He didn't know what he would say -- "Hello, I'm your younger son from an alternate timeline, can I have a hug?" -- but it reassured Jim to know she still lived.

"All right," Jim said, deciding to turn the conversation back to his younger counterpart himself. Talking to Pike was better than dwelling on everything else. "So, my younger self. He's assigned to the _Enterprise_ now? What are his duties?"

Pike grimaced. "Actually, he's not," he replied. "We had an emergency situation, so we spread all our final-year cadets around our new ships to get to Vulcan. Kirk was on academic probation, so he shouldn't have even been on any ship. McCoy smuggled him aboard."

"Academic probation? What for?"

Jim had had an exemplary Academy record. That was why he'd taught there for a couple years before he reported to the _Farragut_ , and one of the reasons behind his early promotion to captain.

"He's been accused of cheating on the Kobayashi Maru."

"Installed a subroutine, did he?"

Pike turned his head to focus on him more clearly. "You too?"

Jim nodded. "I got a commendation for original thinking, though, not accusations of cheating."

Impossibly, Pike chuckled, a rusty sound. "I bet he'll love hearing that," he said. "Was Spock not the administrator of your test, then?"

Jim blinked. "No," he replied. "He was on the _Enterprise_ with you at that point. Are you saying _Spock_ accused my younger self of cheating?"

"Yes. Is that really so surprising? Spock follows rules and regulations, and acts according to logic. Is he different in your universe?"

"Not so much," Jim said, still stunned. The idea of Spock not being on his side was mind-boggling. Even when he disagreed with Jim's decisions or methods, he'd never done anything to possibly put Jim's career in jeopardy. "He's logical, yes, but he's always found my solution to the Kobayashi Maru mildly amusing, I think. He never exactly approved, but he understands how I responded the way I did."

"Well, the Spock I know accused him of cheating in front of his entire class," Pike informed him. "And he brought up George as an example of the no-win scenario the test is meant to teach."

The words stunned Jim yet again. This was...almost worse than the mirror universe. At least there he expected the people to be cruel. Now Jim understood what Nero meant when he talked about how the tensions between his peoples might have changed Spock. His heart ached to hear about any version of Spock acting without the compassion so characteristic of Jim's bondmate.

"I don't suppose my counterpart reacted very well," Jim said, swallowing against a throat gone dry.

"Not very well, no," Pike replied. "I don't think they're on very good terms right now, but oddly enough, I still think they'll work well together. I named Kirk Spock's first officer when I gave Spock command to come here."

The information surprised a laugh out of Jim. "I'd like to see that," he said. "Me first officer to Spock -- that's great. I wonder how it'd work."

Pike regarded him curiously. "How was it, in your universe?" he asked. "I get the impression you're on good terms with the Spock you know."

"That's an understatement," Jim replied wryly, though he thought this was not the time to inform Pike he and Spock were married. Still, no harm in a few details. "As a matter of fact, he was _my_ first officer for years, and the closest friend I've ever had. He told me once that being a starship captain is my first, best destiny."

"He thought I was joking, when I made Kirk his First."

"They got off to such a great start, how could he have doubted you?" Jim shook his head. "They'll hit their stride, though. Spock and I always made an amazing team."

"You think that won't change between universes?"

"This isn't the first alternate universe I've been to," he responded after a moment. "A transporter malfunction once sent me and several of my crew to a universe where the Federation was the Terran Empire, their mission to conquer the galaxy. My counterpart was a sadistic tyrant, Spock's completely ruthless and calculating. But they were still Captain and First Officer, still partners in a way. If Kirk and Spock could still be drawn to each other in a universe where friendship was a dirty word and a weakness, I don't think I'm too worried about how they'll end up here."

"Well, they have to work together now." Pain flashed over Pike's face. "They don't exactly have a choice."

Jim looked at him closely. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know what the slug is doing," Pike said, shifting uncomfortably. "I've been trying to hold back the pain, but it does hurt. And I feel like I've got pins and needles all along both of my legs."

Jim frowned. "We'll need to do something about these restraints soon, then," he said. "You need to get back to the _Enterprise_ , and a doctor."

"You have any ideas?"

"Not yet," Jim replied, "but give me some time. I'll think of something."

He hoped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four  
2371 - Prime Universe**

 

Jim spent several hours immersed in the history banks before someone at his door chimed for entry.

"Come," he called without looking away from the Starfleet biography of Admiral Leonard McCoy, which he'd be staring at for at least an hour. McCoy had only died four years ago at the ripe old age of 140, one of the oldest humans on record. It really said something for healthy living, but...four years. Jim had missed his best friend by _four years_.

The door slid open and Riker walked in. His eyes gleamed brightly and a smile kept pulling up the corners of his mouth.

"Am I disturbing you, Captain?" Riker asked, coming to a stop a few feet away.

Jim shook his head. "I was just bringing myself up to speed. What can I do for you, Commander?"

"Captain Picard would like to see you in his ready room. I can show you the way, if that's all right."

Jim inclined his head. Riker was very polite, but Jim knew the request of a captain on his ship amounted to an order, even for guests. Even for guests of an equal or higher rank. He could refuse, but he wouldn't without a good reason.

"Of course, Commander," Jim replied. As he followed Riker out into the halls, he asked, "How long have you been with Captain Picard?"

"Seven years," Riker said with a wide grin. "I've been given several opportunities for a ship of my own, but I've always decided to stay with the _Enterprise_. There's nothing quite like her."

Jim smiled. "No, there isn't," he agreed.

This wasn't his _Enterprise_. The lines and colors were different, as were the uniforms. The ship was much bigger, and had far more facilities and amenities. His first _Enterprise_ hadn't even had a ready room for him, as useful as one would have been.

He'd love to see the schematics for this ship, though. Perhaps after he got himself caught up.

As they rode the turbolift to the bridge, Riker kept beaming at him. Jim was pretty sure his excitement came from a combination of pride in his ship and hero-worship, as discomfiting as he found hero-worship coming from a seasoned commander. Not that he hadn't hero-worshipped a few people himself, but being the recipient was always stranger. And he had not forgotten the way people had watched him in Ten Forward, once they'd heard his name. He should certainly look up his own reputation as well.

Finally the turbolift stopped and opened onto the bridge and Riker, grinning, gestured for him to leave first.

This bridge, like the rest of this ship, was much bigger than his own, with a lot of empty floor space in between the captain's chair and the viewscreen and only the helm and navigation consoles filling the space. The rest of the consoles seemed to be on the rise behind the captain's chair.

Jim had stood on the bridges of many ships in his time. He usually felt a pang for his own whenever he did, but the pang hit deeper here. This was the _Enterprise_ , but not one he knew.

Riker led him down the bridge to a door near another turbolift and buzzed for entry. When Picard's voice called, "Come!" Jim walked in. He noticed Riker head to the captain's chair as he the door hissed shut behind him.

"Ah, Captain," Picard said, standing up and coming around to stand in front of his desk. "Thank you for coming. Is there anything I can get you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. And please, it's Jim," Jim replied. "You wanted to see me?"

Picard smiled. "Yes. I was able to contact Romulus for you, though I had to go through Starfleet, and they would like to debrief you themselves at some point. But Ambassador Spock is now on a fully sanctioned Federation diplomatic mission, and the Romulans are aware the Federation will occasionally need to contact him."

Jim could feel his heart speed up in his chest. "You contacted Spock?"

Picard nodded, still smiling. "I haven't told him anything but that I have a guest who would like to speak with him," he said. "He's on hold right now." He gestured at his desk, where the computer screen faced Jim and the visitor's chair. "I'll leave you to your conversation."

Jim slowly sank into the chair in front of him as Picard left the room. He hadn't been expecting results quite this quickly.

Almost on autopilot, his hand reached out to turn the monitor on. Immediately Spock's face filled the screen, in sharper definition than the viewers of eighty years ago. Jim could see every strand of gray in his hair, every line on his face.

Spock had grown old, visibly older than Jim now...and Jim had missed it happening.

"Spock," he whispered. He cleared his throat and tried again. " _Spock._ " Almost without his volition, his hand reached up to touch the screen and trace the lines and angles of the new-familiar face.

Spock's face had held a trace of expression, curiosity in the lines of his mouth and warmth in the depths of his eyes, but all expression dropped off at the sound of Jim's voice. Jim could only see the blankness of utter shock.

" _Jim?_ " If Spock's face was blank, his voice held traces of emotion. Jim heard a mix of surprise, disbelief, hope, and fear.

"Oh, Spock," Jim said, trying to hold his emotions back.

His breathing grew loud enough for him to hear it, and started coming quickly. He controlled himself, to prevent hyperventilation, but he couldn't stop the prick of tears in his eyes. He blinked them away.

"This is not possible," Spock said. His gaze fastened, unblinking, on Jim's face.

Jim chuckled wetly. "Is it logical to doubt the evidence of your eyes?" he teased gently. "It's incredibly unlikely, I'll grant you, but not clearly not impossible."

"How?"

"Have you heard of the Nexus?" Jim's fingers twitched against the screen, wanting to actually touch Spock's face.

Spock closed his eyes in a long blink. "I researched it, upon speaking to the survivors of the _Lakul_ ," he said softly. "But it was merely curiosity. You are saying you were trapped within the Nexus?"

Jim nodded. "That hull breach on the _Enterprise_ -B must have sent me there. I don't even remember it properly. One minute I was on the ship and the next I was living a different life like I'd never had anything else."

Spock's eyebrow tilted up to a skeptical angle. "An extraordinary story, certainly," he replied.

Jim couldn't be surprised Spock didn't believe him immediately. He also couldn't entirely suppress the flash of pain at Spock's disbelief, even expecting it, but he tamped his reaction down in favor of logic. "It fits the facts as you know them, doesn't it?" he pointed out. "And surely you don't think that Captain Picard would go to the trouble of contacting you, all the way on _Romulus_ , if he didn't think I was the real Jim Kirk?"

"Captain Picard could be mistaken."

"He could," Jim agreed, "but he seems pretty sharp to me. I don't think he would have contacted you if he weren't convinced."

Spock's eyes grew lighter, though he still controlled his face. Jim pressed his advantage. "My friend, I understand your caution. How many times have you curbed my own impulses? As many times as I have asked you to trust yourself, surely. What is your heart telling you now?"

Finally Spock seemed to believe him. His face relaxed, and Jim's spine relaxed as well.

"Your story fits the facts as I know them," Spock replied. "I agree Captain Picard would not have us converse had he been in any doubt as to your identity. And...I believed I felt your presence again, not long ago. Not the resumption of our bond, of course, but a renewed awareness of your presence. I dismissed it, but now I see I was in error."

Jim smiled. "I would have done the same thing," he said. They shared a warm glance.

"Tell me more, of how you came to be here?" Spock requested.

So Jim told him the story. He glossed over Antonia, and Spock let him, but he did not hold back on his disgust with himself.

"I didn't even realize, Spock," he confessed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't even think about it. I existed there for _eighty years_ , but I can't say I felt like I'd lived there for more than a day. Or else it seemed like I'd been there forever. But I'd had no idea the Nexus wasn't true reality until Picard came."

"Do not castigate yourself unduly, Jim," Spock advised him. "Perhaps it is simply a property of the Nexus. The _Lakul_ survivors whom I'd spoken to were likewise unable to relate the exact number of years they had spent within the Nexus."

"Yeah," Jim said. He looked at Spock, tracing the cast of those features, memorizing them again with his eyes. "Oh, Spock. Has it really been eighty years?"

"Seventy-eight," Spock corrected. "But much time has indeed passed."

"I don't feel like it has. I feel like I'd only seen you a week ago, before you left for the conference on Qo'noS." He swallowed. "I missed so _much_."

Something seemed to twist in Spock's eyes. "I did not look," he said stiffly. "I felt the breaking of the bond, yet my only response was to speak to the survivors of the _Enterprise_ -B and the _Lakul_. You still lived, and I did nothing."

"Spock, no. You couldn't have known. You had eyewitness reports that I'd been sucked into space, and you knew the bond was broken. You had no reason to think I was alive."

"You were not so sanguine, faced with my death."

"I had something to go on," Jim reminded him. "I went after your body on Genesis because Sarek told me your katra needed to be reunited with your body or it would go mad. Without Sarek, I never would have thought to do anything. It wouldn't have occurred to me there was anything I could do. Don't beat yourself up, my heart. If you need forgiveness, I forgive you."

Spock's eyes grew warm at the endearment before once again seeming to shut down. "I do not know if you have been informed," he said, his voice once again stiff, "but I have remarried."

So, it was time for this. Jim had been half hoping to ignore it, but he knew they couldn't. "I was told, yes," he replied. "To Saavik."

"Yes." Spock surveyed him with those soulful brown eyes, and if Jim had been angry with him, he would have forgiven him on the spot. Those eyes held too great a power over him. "I would not have," he said, "had my Time not continued to come, Jim. I promise you that. I never wanted another mate in my life, after you."

Jim shook his head. "I'm glad you did, Spock," he told him honestly. "How much worse would being free of the Nexus be for me if I came out to hear you'd died years ago? And you'd died because I was gone and you weren't willing to continue without me? You're alive, Spock. That's what matters to me."

"Your life matters to me as well," Spock murmured. One of Spock's delightful understatements, Jim knew -- or hoped. He knew how much he'd meant to Spock seventy-eight years ago, but now?

It was one thing to be pleased he was still alive, and another to be willing to take him back after having moved on decades ago.

But Jim couldn't keep silent any longer. He had to ask. "Spock," he said, forcing himself to remove any trace of hesitancy from his voice. "I know it's been a long time, and you've had to move on. But do you still..."

Even then, he couldn't say complete the sentence. _Love me_ , he wanted to finish, but he didn't know if the words would come out the continuation of his question or a demand.

Spock's eyes grew even softer, more welcoming.

"Jim," he said, his voice deepening with a smokiness that sent heat spreading through Jim's body, "the universe could die through entropy and I could live long enough to watch it happen, and I would still love you. It would be my life's greatest impossibility for me to stop."

Jim couldn't stop the shaky exhale of relief. "I love you too," he replied. His words weren't enough, he knew, but they were all he had for now. "Always. I couldn't stop and remain myself. I hope you know that."

"I do," Spock replied, his voice still deliciously smoky, "but it is always welcome to hear again."

Far too much distance lay between them. Spock was on Romulus, and Jim didn't even know the _Enterprise_ 's current position, but at this moment, to be in the same room without touching would have been too much distance. To be standing next to each other with an inch between them would not have been close enough.

Parted and never parted, never and always touching and touched -- the Vulcan words of marriage ran through his mind, but with more of an undertone of bitterness than the contentment with which he usually recalled them. His bond was broken. They were parted and not touching.

"What about Saavik?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Spock's eyes grew masked. "I cannot answer without consultation with her."

"But...you would want to bond with me again? If you were free to do so?"

"Of course. Had there been no obstacles, I would even now be on my way from Romulus to meet you. But, Jim, my answer cannot be so simple at this time."

Yes, Jim acknowledged, discussing this without Saavik wouldn't be fair to her. But, dammit, Spock had been his husband first! Didn't he have prior claim?

He would be willing to challenge Saavik for Spock, even. He didn't care that the challenge was rare and not precisely in good taste, and usually a fight for the female besides. He'd acknowledged decades ago the only right way for him to be in this life was to stand at Spock's side, sleep in his bed, abide in his mind.

"When can we talk to Saavik?" Jim asked, trying not to sound like begging. Though he would, if that would make Spock willing to stay with him. He had never been above begging Spock for what he needed, and he knew Spock's susceptibility to that. Perhaps it would be a dirty tactic, but he didn't care.

"I will make arrangements to leave Romulus immediately," Spock said quietly, watching Jim with knowing eyes, as if he could feel Jim's rising desperation even without their bond. "And I will request Saavik meet us on Earth, if that is acceptable?"

Earth. How much would Earth have changed in nearly eighty years?

But Spock's choice of rendezvous did not reassure Jim. He could leave Jim behind on Earth, his home planet, and know Jim still had roots somewhere. He'd be less likely to leave Jim behind if he'd chosen a place where Jim had no ties.

Jim was probably being paranoid. Spock had already assured him he still loved him, that he still wanted to choose him.

What Jim needed to know was why Spock hesitated.

It didn't matter, though. He'd coaxed Spock into appreciating his emotions at least twice before. Whatever Spock's reasons, Jim knew he could find arguments to persuade him to take him back.

"Yeah," he said, equally quiet. "Earth is fine. I'll be interested to see how much it's changed."

"Jim..." Spock watched him, his worried look, the one that said he knew Jim was only putting on a good face and wouldn't he just talk to Spock and share his burdens?

"Spock. I understand, all right? You can't make me any promises right now. I don't blame you for that. The galaxy doesn't stop just because I leave the universe for a few decades."

Jim was reminded suddenly of a centuries-old poem. Stop all the clocks, he thought briefly. But they didn't stop. They couldn't. Oh, Spock. You are my north, my south, my east, my west. What will I do in a galaxy where I can't touch you?

"No, it does not." Spock paused. "But Jim, do not dwell too heavily on this. You do not realize what it means to me, to have you in this universe again. It has been so long for me, t'hy'la. Do not think I am ignorant of what a gift your presence is."

T'hy'la. Jim basked in the word. If Spock was still willing to call him that, then perhaps his fears really were foolish and premature.

But he could not forget Spock would not say what was going to happen one way or the other. There was more going on here than how much they loved each other -- that, after all, had never been one of the problems in their relationship.

They had always known how much they loved each other. The issue between them had always been how to handle that love. Handling it seemed as much a question now as it had been in the days before V'Ger and their bond.

"I know," he said. "It's just...difficult, being here like this. But I'll see you soon?"

"I will leave on the first ship I can arrange," Spock assured him. "I, too, look forward to seeing you. T'hy'la."

Jim let Spock go not long after that -- the sooner he made arrangements, the sooner they could see each other in person. His heart still contracted painfully as he watched the screen go dark, not knowing when they would next see each other again.

He went back to his quarters, waving off the invitations to dinner from Picard, Riker, and Troi. He didn't feel up to socializing with anyone right then, and even less so with people he'd only just met. And he was still so tired. What he wanted most -- besides Spock -- was an early night.

He had dinner by himself, which reminded him of his last night before the ceremony on the _Enterprise_ -B. He couldn't help but dwell on it as he went to bed. He had been alone, with Spock at the conference on Qo'noS and Bones spending time with Joanna and her children.

Spock had adjusted so much better than Jim had to life after their retirement from Starfleet. He had had the beginnings of his diplomatic career to keep him busy. He'd invited Jim to go with him to Qo'noS, but while the festering boil of his hatred for the Klingons had been lanced by the events of the Khitomer conference, the wound still ached. He had not been ready to go to the Klingon homeworld itself.

And so he'd stayed on Earth with only the ceremony on the _Enterprise_ -B to look forward to -- an event that would formally give the _Enterprise_ to another captain. He'd missed Spock desperately, though he'd only been gone a week and they'd been separated longer before.

He'd been vulnerable, and lonely, and the Nexus had preyed on that. It hadn't even had the decency to give him Spock -- though it could have never replicated the true Spock. Perhaps that was why the Nexus hadn't tried. He would have known sooner or later Spock's representation wasn't real.

But he didn't want to think about the Nexus, and determinedly turned his thoughts away.

Deanna Troi had told him earlier he needed to make plans for his life, plans not dependent on Spock. He knew what she meant -- it would be unhealthy to build his life entirely around another person. Remove that person, and his entire life would fall apart.

Other than Scotty, who Jim would see if he could track down the next day, Spock was the only thing he had left. And as much as he cared for Scotty, the engineer was not his husband. Not the other half of his soul.

He knew he'd been desperate during their conversation today, and he knew Spock had noticed. What he didn't know was how not to be.

He fell asleep still worrying.

\--

He had breakfast the next day with Picard and Riker, who had come to his quarters to offer a meal and a tour of the ship. Jim quickly accepted, not wanting to be left to his own thoughts any longer.

Throughout the meal and during the tour, whenever the Starfleet officers weren't pointing out things of interest aboard the ship, differences from the Constitution-class starship Jim knew, they were telling him stories about the things they'd encountered. He'd even told a few himself.

And though Jim missed his own _Enterprise_ , he had to admit the Galaxy-class one looked pretty amazing. Starfleet allowed the children he'd noticed earlier on board because the saucer section could separate, leaving the senior crew on the battle bridge to handle the danger.

He was particularly intrigued at the idea of the holodeck -- something he would have loved to have on his own ship. He turned down Riker's offer to use it any time, though. "I've had enough of fake lives for awhile," he said. "Let me get used to reality first. Then maybe I'll try out the holodeck."

He hadn't been able to spend very long in Sickbay, when they'd arrived there. He had nothing against Dr. Crusher, and knew she had to be a superlative CMO to be serving on the _Enterprise_ , but it was too difficult to walk into Sickbay and not hear McCoy's gruff tones grousing at him, not see McCoy's habitual scowl.

Talking to Spock yesterday made him miss Bones even more. The three of them had been family, as close as brothers. As deeply happy as he was to know Spock was still alive and still loved him, he felt even more off-balance with McCoy gone.

They ended the tour at the bridge, and invited him to stay as long as he liked as they took their seats.

So he stayed there for a shift fully as uneventful and boring as a normal shift on his own ship. They weren't even star-charting, only traveling through known space. Conversation ebbed and flowed around him, but frequently centered around topics he couldn't participate in. People he didn't know, planets he'd never been to, missions he wasn't around for.

The bridge crew made an effort to include him, but conversation inevitably turned back to the kind that wasn't purposely meant to exclude him but did anyway. Jim couldn't even last out the shift before he had to leave, citing his need to keep learning the history he missed.

Instead, he went to Main Engineering to track down Geordi LaForge.

"Commander LaForge?" he asked, drawing close to where LaForge stood by one of the consoles.

"Captain Kirk!" LaForge turned around. "What can I do for you?"

"You said Scotty -- Captain Scott -- was still around?" Jim said. "Would you happen to know how I can get a message to him?"

LaForge grinned. "I can do more than that, Captain," he replied. "He and I have kept in touch. He's been studying contemporary engineering on Earth. You can meet him when we get there, and in the meantime, I can give you his direction."

Jim closed his eyes. "Thank you. This...means a lot to me."

"It will mean a lot to him too," LaForge agreed, nodding. "He speaks very highly of you, you know."

Jim smiled. "Yes. And I think just as highly of him. I can't even tell you how many miracles he's pulled off for me."

Jim stopped by his quarters after leaving Engineering, but he could only leave a message for Scotty. Even this far in the future, this far out from a message's destination, real-time conversations were reserved for the most important communiqués.

So he went back to Ten Forward, looking for Guinan. She had also been in the Nexus, and wanted to speak to him.

He took a seat at the bar when he got there -- and damn, he still couldn't get over that. A bar on the _Enterprise_. It was either the best or worst idea ever.

"Captain Kirk," Guinan greeted from behind the bar. She wore a most intriguing style of hat. "What can I get for you?"

"Saurian brandy?" He grinned at her. "And call me Jim. It's like no one on this ship knows my name."

"Jim, then." She smiled. "And I'm out of real Saurian brandy. Right now I only have synthehol."

Jim grimaced. Synthehol never tasted as good as the real thing, which is why Bones had always smuggled aboard, ahem, medicinal supplies.

But it was probably just as well. A drink was likely to depress him further in this mood.

"Coffee, then, milk, no sugar." He smiled briefly. "Apparently it's been almost eighty years since I had any caffeine. I'm surprised I'm not in withdrawal."

Guinan smiled with him, but didn't say anything until she brought his coffee out from behind the bar and over to a table by the windows. He followed her to the table and sat when she gestured, taking the coffee. He took a moment to smell it, savor that scent, before taking his first sip.

Perfect.

"Are you a telepath, Guinan?" he asked, taking another sip. "It is just Guinan, right? You got my coffee exactly right."

"Just Guinan," she agreed. "And I've had some practice."

They sat in silence for a moment, Jim holding his coffee mug between his hands, enjoying the warmth emanating from it. He knew she wanted to talk to him about the Nexus, but he didn't know how to open the discussion. Part of him wanted to completely purge his experience, discuss it until it had no more hold on him. Another part never wanted to think of it again, and for multiple reasons.

He was both damned and saved when she began the conversation instead. "You said you lost eighty years of your life to the Nexus," she began, folding her fingers together and leaning forward. "Did you mean it like that? Lost?"

Jim looked down at his coffee, then back at her. "Out of all the people I loved, two are still alive," he replied. "One of them only by another trick of stasis. The other is my husband, who is now married to someone else. If not for the Nexus, none of this would be true."

"You're very fortunate," she said. The words were so incongruous to what he'd just said that he stared at her for a moment. She noticed, and smiled. "To already be able to focus on the life you have here, in the real world, I mean. It took me a long time to get to that point, and as you've seen, Soran never got there."

"You were in the Nexus?" He'd thought so, but he didn't even know why. He'd just...felt something from her.

She nodded, her gaze going distant. "I was on the _Lakul_ ," she told him. "For all this time, the galaxy has believed you sacrificed your life for me and mine. I'm glad to find you're still alive, Jim."

"How was the Nexus, for you?" he couldn't help but ask. Picard had been there so briefly he'd barely felt the effects, Jim had noticed.

"I don't like to remember often," she said softly, slowly. "And I don't really remember the details of the life I'd lived there. But I do remember it being like existing in pure joy, Jim. We'd never wanted to leave. Eventually I moved on, but I can understand how Soran couldn't."

"You and Soran, you're from the same people? Did you lose your world as well?"

She nodded. "We're El-Aurian, a race of listeners. The Borg -- they're a sort of collective pseudo-race who combine organic and cybernetic parts, on an eternal quest to assimilate everyone they come across and destroy the people who resist -- they came to my world. They destroyed it. We're all of us refugees now."

"I'm sorry," he replied. Guinan carried her sorrow well, but Jim could tell she still felt it.

She inclined her head. "Inside the Nexus, I could still feel my family, the love we had for each other. Being forced out of the Nexus was like I lost them all over again."

Jim shook his head. "All I got," he said, "was a woman I barely knew that the Nexus tried to convince me I loved. And it did. While I was there, I firmly believed I was in love with her. I believed what I wanted most in the world was to leave Starfleet and marry her and stay in an idyllic little cabin. When I was there, I was the person the Nexus made me into.

"I may never forgive the Nexus for that."

"You don't want those things? A peaceful life, someone to love?"

"I had someone to love," he snapped. "Someone I've loved for nearly thirty years! Only once did the Nexus show him to me, when I deliberately tried to call him forward, right before I left. Otherwise I barely remembered he existed."

She was silent, and he stared into his coffee again. "I have no objections to a peaceful life," he said, more gently, almost apologizing for snapping. "But I can never live it for long. It would drive me mad. My life has always been intense, and sometimes I need a break. But I also thrive on the intensity, and trying to just plop me into a peaceful, useless, meaningless existence has always felt like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole."

"I've never thought about how the Nexus gave us what it did," Guinan remarked. "For me, and for Soran, it seems to have been spot on. For you, the Nexus seems to have missed its mark."

Jim shrugged. "Maybe because it gave you what you'd already lost and wanted back," he suggested. "The kind of thing that would tempt you to stay. For me, it had to make me forget what I lost by being there in order to make me want to stay. Unlike me, you and Soran longed for something you could never get back. I think the Nexus used Antonia to distract me from wanting to get back to Spock."

"Do you think that was important to it? Trying to make us stay?"

He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I don't know," he said. "I'd never even heard of the Nexus until Picard tried to persuade me to leave. You probably know it better than I do."

Guinan shifted so she could prop her chin up in one hand. "There was never much to find out," she replied. "I know what it did for me and the rest of us on the _Lakul_. I know how we felt after we left. I know the gateway is through an energy ribbon that travels around and rarely appears in this part of the galaxy. That's all I know."

Jim took another sip of his coffee. "What do you mean, how you felt after you left? How did you feel?"

"Depressed," she answered simply. "Listless, hollow. I wanted to stay in bed and dream of the Nexus all day, and I wasn't the only one."

"I was tired," he said slowly, "when I left the Nexus. I wouldn't call myself depressed -- at least, not because I left. But I was very tired."

"Is that significant?"

He shrugged again. "I can't be sure," he said. "But I have to wonder where the ribbon gets its energy, to spend its time traveling around the galaxy. What if it took that energy from us, the people inside it? It could keep us in a happy fantasy and we wouldn't even notice."

Guinan looked troubled. "It would explain a lot," she said. "But I have to confess I don't really like the idea."

A corner of his mouth pulled down in a half-grimace. "I don't like the idea either," he said. "And it's just a theory. But I think it makes more sense than my dearest wish and greatest happiness being to marry a woman I barely knew, despite being married to someone else when I met her, and where the most exciting part of my day was chopping wood at a rustic mountain cabin ad infinitum."

"You may be right," Guinan said, but she still looked troubled. "You...may be right."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five  
2258 - Reboot Universe**

 

After Pike's admission of pain, the conversation died down, despite Jim's attempts to reignite it. Eventually Pike could only answer in monosyllables, if at all.

This basically left Jim alone with his thoughts. The conversation had distracted him very thoroughly, enough for him to smile and even laugh. At the discussion's close, all his confidence, amusement, and sociability drained from him.

Nero had destroyed Vulcan. The event was so momentous and terrible Jim still couldn't wrap his mind around it. Vulcan, gone. Vulcan, and its ancient civilization, its history and traditions and physical presence -- wiped out as if they'd never been, except for the existence of survivors.

How many survived? Nero's plan had been put into motion so quickly. How many could have escaped the planet before it collapsed?

Jim could feel himself sinking into despondency, and couldn't muster the energy to break himself out of his depressive mood.

His entire time on Nero's ship, he'd maintained a belief he could somehow get out of this. He'd always been able to survive before, sometimes against astronomical odds. Now he found it difficult to remain confident, in the face of separation from Spock, Vulcan's destruction, and the flowing continuation of Nero's plan. How would anyone be able to stop him?

But, no. He would not give in to despair. Nero hadn't killed him yet, so he could still do _something_. He may have been helpless to stop Vulcan's destruction and Pike's interrogation, but he was not going to let himself remain that way. And his first priority would be these shackles.

Experimentally, he twisted his hands around his back, the pads of his fingers skittering across the pillar. Now he was almost glad he'd been bound behind his back -- his body would hide all of his movements from the guard who watched him and Pike. He hadn't interfered in their conversation, but he hadn't left off watching them.

This was not the first time he'd navigated completely by touch. Admittedly, usually he explored Spock's body, and he looked for erogenous zones, not the mechanics of restraint releases--

Focus! Now was not the time to think of Spock, no matter how much more he liked the memory than reality. He ran his fingers against the pillar once again, trying to find every dip and curve in the smooth material.

His fingers were more sensitive now than when he was younger, his skin having grown thinner as he aged. He'd begun to bruise more easily, and already had the bloom of dark purple bruises from Nero's anger on his skin. But he could use that sensitivity to find the release mechanism. He didn't recall Ayel having used a lock.

That was the problem with makeshift facilities, Jim decided, grinning slightly as one of his hands found a catch just above and to the center of his cuffs. You could only do so much to simulate professional-grade restraints when you didn't actually have them. And someone who had been locked up as many times as Jim had could usually manage a way out of anything but professional-grade.

His fingers scrabbled with the catch he found, but then they slipped as alarms started blaring across the ship. The Romulan guard's head snapped up, but as much as Jim willed him to leave and find out what happened, he stayed at his post. He glanced at Jim and at Pike, but Jim's body hid the frantic movements of his fingers, and so he just calmly returned the stare.

His fingers landed on the catch again and moved around it, getting a feel for how it worked. Soon he caught it, and then his cuffs separated from the pillar with a quiet _snick_. He could only hear the soft sound himself above the alarms because he was so close and listening for it.

Now, what about the guard? He would be able to see any move Jim could make, and would most likely subdue Jim before he could do anything.

" _Kirk!_ " Nero's roar resounded through the room seconds before Nero himself appeared. Jim's head snapped up, and the guard stood at attention.

"What did you do, Kirk?" Nero hissed, moving forward until he stood mere inches from Jim, close enough for Jim to smell sweaty, worked-up Romulan, a scent vaguely coppery. Nero braced a hand on the pillar next to Jim's head.

"What do you mean, what did I do? I haven't done anything! I've been right here this entire time. What's going on?"

"Oh no, don't you place innocent with me," Nero said, focusing incensed eyes on Jim. "I've read about you, the oh-so-clever Captain Kirk. How did Spock and Kirk get on board?"

Jim's heart leapt. His and Spock's younger counterparts, here? What about the _Enterprise_?

"I don't know, Nero," Jim replied, but he couldn't help the twisting grin spreading across his face. "Maybe you're just slipping. Tunnel vision can be a serious drawback, you know--"

Nero's fist slammed into the pillar just a few inches away from his ear. Jim held back a flinch with all his willpower.

"You did this! I don't know how, but you did this!"

"He didn't." Pike's voice sounded weaker than Jim liked to hear, but he could still speak and raise his head.

Nero whirled around. "Then this was your plan?" he demanded.

"I...told them to come after me," Pike said, turning his face to look at Nero. "They're just following orders."

"Not to mention you're trying to destroy another planet," Jim pointed out. "Did you expect them to just sit back and watch it happen?"

"They won't be able to do anything," Nero said, calmly down slightly. "The _Narada_ 's too powerful, and they're just two people."

Jim laughed in his face. "You must not have read much about me, if you believe that," he replied. "But don't let me stop you. You know best, I'm sure."

Nero pointed at him. "One more word," he told him, just barely audible over the alarms. "Just one more word, Kirk, and I'll forget about letting you die with your planet. I'll kill you right here. How will your Spock like that? Will he be able to feel me pull your head off with my bare hands over your _bond_?"

Jim raised an eyebrow at him, trying to take solace in this mannerism of Spock's. He said nothing, but he tried to convey that he remained silent because Nero hadn't said anything worth replying to, rather than because he feared the threat. Even though he sort of did.

Nero's face twisted with rage, and he started to stride forward with his hands clenched into fists.

Then the younger Kirk appeared in the room. For a moment everything seemed to stop as they all looked at him.

First Kirk shot the guard closest to his position and already moving to engage him. Nero shouted in a wordless expression of fury. He was on Kirk before he could shoot the Romulan barreling toward him.

"You," Nero hissed, now entirely focused on the younger Kirk. "James Kirk. You're more trouble than you're worth, and I am going to take very great pleasure in stopping your legend even before it starts."

He started hitting Kirk, including a blow that knocked him off his feet. Kirk got up again quickly, but he could only manage one return punch before Nero knocked him down again and bent over him.

He had a hold of Kirk by his throat, Kirk's hands scrabbling at the strong ones choking him. Kirk had dropped the phaser when Nero rushed him and knocked it out of his hands. Now he could only kick at Nero, but to no effect.

Jim ran forward, even with his hands still bound behind him. He gathered as much momentum as he could in such a short space, then bent his knees and leapt up, kicking out in one of his favorite moves. He hit Nero in the back. Nero stumbled back and released the younger Kirk in surprise.

Nero recovered quickly, though. He punched Jim in the chest, hard enough to send him flying back several feet. He landed hard on his side with one arm under him.

Jim wanted to get up and keep fighting, but he couldn't. He could only curl loosely on his side and gasp for breath. Nero had hit him in the ribs again and he couldn't bring himself to do anything more than shake with pain.

He opened eyes he had previously squeezed tight to see Nero once again had a hold of his younger counterpart. "Look at that man," Nero told him, spinning around so Kirk could see Jim, still on the floor. "He's in his seventies and still fighting me. But he failed, Kirk. Just like you're going to fail." He shook Kirk a little. "James Kirk was known in my universe as a great man," he hissed, his face just inches away from Kirk's. "He went on to captain the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ , one of the greatest captains in Starfleet history. And I'm going to deprive you of that, just like I deprived your father of his life and his potential legacy."

Jim tried to get up the urge and the energy to go to Kirk's rescue again, but someone's voice announced, "Captain Nero, the Vulcan ship has been taken. The drill has been destroyed."

Nero dropped Kirk, his only word a yell of "Spock!" as he ran off. Jim could see Kirk gulping in great breaths of air as he got his arms and legs back under him. Beyond him Jim could see Ayel, who must have gotten there just as Nero left, and he raised his voice in warning. "Kirk -- behind you!"

Kirk thrust himself upright, but he lurched back on unsteady feet. "Look at you," Ayel said, not bothering to hide his amusement. "All three of you. So utterly weak. How did humans get to be the great power in the galaxy they are when you're so weak?"

"We work together," Jim answered, bracing his shoulder against the pillar so he could use it to help pull himself up. His ribs screamed at him, and his left side felt like one big bruise, but he ignored the pain.

He caught Kirk's eye and flicked his gaze at the phaser still lying on the floor. Ayel didn't seem to have noticed it. Kirk nodded at him almost imperceptibly, and Jim hid a smile. Easy communication seemed to be a big perk when working with yourself.

Jim started walking forward, keeping Ayel's attention focused on him. Ayel kept shifting his body to face him. "We humans know we're pretty weak," he replied. "But it's because we understand our weaknesses that we're able to work together. And humans are always stronger together than alone."

Jim had enough of Ayel's attention. Kirk dove for the phaser, reaching it just as Ayel spun around to face him instead. Ayel went for his disruptor, but Kirk brought the phaser up in a smooth, quick motion, and shot him.

Kirk immediately set to work on the straps holding Pike to the table. He'd just gotten the ones covering Pike's chest off when Pike grabbed his phaser and shot something behind him. Kirk and Jim both turned to look, and saw yet another Romulan fall.

Jim grinned, even with all the pain he currently felt. He definitely liked Chris Pike.

When he had all the straps undone, Kirk helped Pike off the table. Pike couldn't stand by himself, so Jim came up to tuck himself under Pike's other arm, though he was a bit off-balance with his hands still bound behind him. Kirk shot him a quick grin, then blinked and looked at him more closely.

"Who--" he began, but Jim interrupted him.

"Save it for when we're safe, kid," he said, feeling very strange about talking to himself. He was familiar enough with alternate universes, but even in the mirror universe, he'd been in his other self's body. He'd never actually come face to face with him.

But Kirk nodded, though the questioning light in his eyes was being crowded by something like revelation. He flipped open his communicator with his free hand.

"Kirk to _Enterprise_ , three to beam up here, plus Spock."

"Three? I thought it was just you and Captain Pike--"

Scotty's voice. Jim had heard it a lot more recently than he had all the other ghosts from his past, but that made it no less amazing to hear Scotty there too. Were all his old friends on the _Enterprise_ years before they should be?

"We found another human prisoner. Come on, Scotty, we're short on time -- beam us up and we can explain when this is all over. Have a medical crew standing by."

"Aye, sir!"

Jim felt the familiar transportation sequence and then moments later the three of them, and the younger version of Spock, stood on the transporter pad. For a moment, his and the younger Spock's eyes met. Jim's heart sped up at the familiarity of those brown eyes, but Spock blinked and turned away.

"Nice timing, Scotty," Kirk said with a grin as he began to move off the pad and Spock sped off with barely another glance at Jim.

"I've never beamed four people from two different targets onto one pad before," Scotty told them with an exultant laugh, but then McCoy and other medical crew burst into the room. Jim didn't even have time to marvel at seeing his oldest friend alive again before McCoy took Kirk's place under Pike's arm and Kirk and Spock headed out at a run. "That was pretty good," Scotty said as the transporter room door closed behind them.

They were probably going to the bridge. Jim wanted to follow them, especially since he had almost no idea what was going on, but then McCoy asked loudly, "Who the hell are you?" and he had to deal with Bones.

"Later," he grunted. "Pike needs help. Nero fed him a Santorian slug to make him talk and didn't bother to remove it. He had trouble feeling his legs earlier, but his upper body seems fine."

"Don't talk like I'm not here," Pike groaned. "I can't walk, but I can still talk."

"Sorry." But Jim smiled as he apologized. Pike was resilient.

They met the stretcher just outside of the transporter room, and McCoy heaved Pike onto it. McCoy turned to him with a mutter of, "No, I got it, that's all right," and finally seemed to notice Jim.

"You're hurt!" he said. He immediately took out his scanner and started passing it over Jim. "Broken ribs, bruises, contusions -- did you pick a fight with a Romulan or something? We need to get those restraints off you."

Oh, Bones. "That's exactly what I did," he replied. "A few times, actually. Nero doesn't like me very much."

McCoy gestured at a blonde nurse escorting the stretcher, a nurse Jim only recognized as Christine Chapel after a moment. Chapel. God, everyone really was here.

"Nurse, escort this man to Sickbay," McCoy ordered. "He's got broken ribs, so he has to take it easy. I'm going ahead with Pike. Call Security, and have them meet us there so we can take care of the restraints."

He took hold of the stretcher and started rushing it forward at a greater pace, while Jim was happy to proceed more slowly. Chapel turned away from the wall comm, watching him with worried eyes. With his return to relative safety, his body seemed to tally up every single ache and pain and give him the bill all at once. He found he actually had to stop against a wall and rest for a moment.

"The doctor should have gotten us another stretcher," Chapel fretted, running her own scanner over him. He didn't know why, since McCoy had already diagnosed him. Maybe compulsive scanning was just a reflex in medical professionals. He was pretty sure Bones even slept with his scanner.

"I'll live," he said. "A few hours ago I had no internal injuries, besides the rib. Something might have changed during the last time Nero beat on me, but I think I can still get there under my own steam."

As he recalled, Sickbay wasn't far from Transporter Room One anyway. They hadn't been able to beam people directly to Sickbay at this point, so Sickbay needed to be closer to the transporters to get injured people as soon as possible.

"Broken ribs can be dangerous," Chapel scolded him. "If you do have internal injuries, broken ribs can damage them further."

"I have had broken ribs before," he said, slowly starting to walk again. "They're not very fun, but as long as I'm careful, they're not hard to deal with."

Of course, as if in direct response, the ship then shook hard enough for Jim to stumble into the wall again. Chapel stumbled into him. She immediately moved to the side enough so she didn't press on his ribs, but he was too busy gasping at the sudden resurgence of pain to see immediately where she went.

"Come on!" he said, though the ship was still shaking. He started walking more quickly towards where he remembered Sickbay to be, and she followed along in his wake.

He knew he had almost reached the right place when he could hear Bones's swearing. His CMO never had been pleased when the ship shook around him, usually even less so when he had patients, and he always blamed Jim. Whether or not it was Jim's fault, he always blamed Jim.

Jim had actually grown fond of the accusations after awhile. He found walking into Sickbay and hearing Bones muttering about "that damn idiot, can't manage to keep the ship straight when I have patients to look after" to be remarkably nostalgic.

Seeing most of the beds full, legacy of Nero's earlier attack on the ship, immediately deflated the good mood that had been rising after seeing Bones. Jim had only just reached an empty bed when another wave of whatever-it-was shook the ship again, and this time kept it shaking for longer than Jim thought boded well. Jim just leaned against the nearest bed and braced himself.

Finally it stopped, and stopped for good. He hopped up on the bed as well as he could with bound hands and lay on his side again, trying to find the most comfortable position for breathing, and waited for Chapel to return.

He had to find out what happened with the _Narada_. He went with McCoy because of his injuries, but mostly because he didn't think he would be allowed on the bridge when no one knew him. But he had no idea what had happened with his and Spock's younger counterparts and Nero. Ignorance was dangerous when Nero had already demonstrated the lengths he would go to for his goals -- and how much he hated Jim. He probably wasn't very happy with Jim's younger counterpart, either.

Chapel appeared at his side long enough to ask, "Are you allergic to any medications?"

"Retinax five," he answered. "No pain medications, as far as I know."

She nodded, and loaded a hypospray. He let her press it into his arm, and only remembered afterward, when the world started going blurry, that he hadn't asked for no sedatives.

\--

Jim woke up later utterly confused. He heard McCoy's voice, and called softly, "Bones...?"

But wait, no. Bones was dead. He'd died before Jim got out of the Nexus.

When he opened his eyes, the room didn't look like the house he shared with Spock on Romulus, or Spock's family estates on Vulcan. It looked like the _Enterprise_ -A.

Then memory rushed back and he sat straight up, noting the twinge in his chest only because his pain had lessened dramatically. Chapel came over to him, though McCoy still spoke to someone else about Pike.

Chapel came over to him, smiling. "Are you feeling better?" she asked. "Your ribs are still broken, so you need to be careful, but the pain medication shouldn't have worn off yet. Our bone-setting lasers were damaged in the initial attack and we haven't been able to repair them yet. Security did come to get the restraints off of you while you were out, though."

"It's fine," Jim said, rubbing his wrists, "I'm not really in pain. Do you know what's going on with Nero and the _Narada_?" He flexed his wrists as well. Relief rushed through him at being out of the restraints.

"I know he's dead and his ship destroyed," she replied, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. "Acting Captain Kirk announced it a few hours ago. I don't know anything beyond that."

Jim sank back against his pillows. Dead. Nero was dead, and the _Narada_ destroyed.

He almost couldn't wrap his mind around it. So much of his life for the past several days had been consumed by Nero and dealing with Nero, and now he could finally let it go. But they'd only managed to finish it after the destruction of Vulcan and the decimation of the armada Starfleet had sent to help.

Jim had matched his wits against plenty of opponents, but Nero was the first person to cause destruction on such a wide scale. Everything else that had done this sort of damage had been a machine of some sort.

"Acting Captain Kirk?" he said, when he remembered her earlier words. "I thought Captain Pike told me he'd advanced Spock to Acting Captain."

"Not long before we began our assault on the ship -- what did you call it, the _Narada_? -- Commander Spock resigned his post and advanced Captain Kirk," she explained. The strangeness of this universe once again struck him, hearing someone else called Captain Kirk likewise disconcerting.

Jim swung his legs out of bed. "Do you know if he's available -- him or Spock?" he asked. He still needed to know exactly _what happened_ , and Kirk and Spock might well be the only ones who could tell him at this point. He'd lived through too much of the situation to just wait to be told later.

"Oh no you don't," McCoy said, appearing as his bedside as if by magic. Jim had chided him many times for that trick, and McCoy had always been smug about it. "You're still my patient, and I haven't cleared you to leave yet."

"I need to know what happened," Jim argued. "How long have I been out?"

"Just a few hours," Chapel replied. "You let me know when you need another dose for the pain."

"Yes, yes," Jim said impatiently. "I don't care right now. I need to know what's going on."

"Not right now you don't," McCoy insisted. "What you need is to rest. You said you've been a Romulan punching bag, and you need to recover."

"It's just a few bruises and broken ribs," Jim replied, waving a hand to dismiss them. "Nothing serious. And I promise you, I'm just going to get more agitated if you don't tell me what I need to know."

"And why is it so urgent you know?" McCoy demanded. "I haven't even been fully briefed, and I'm the damn CMO now!"

"Doctor, you've been busy," Chapel interjected. "You growled at the captain when he came to fetch you for a debriefing. You insisted you couldn't leave your patients."

Jim grinned, because that sounded so like Bones. He'd done the same thing several times in the course of their journeys together in Jim's own universe.

"And so I have been. Which is what I'm trying to do now -- take care of my patients! Whoever you are, you've been through a tough time, and you need to rest. Broken bones heal more slowly as you age, and you need to take care of yourself. You'll have plenty of time to update yourself when you're doing better."

Jim shook his head. He ignored the comment about his age -- it didn't matter how old he was. He could still feel the adrenaline spiking his system. He never had been able to calm down well unless he knew his ship had come through safely. And even though the _Enterprise_ seemed fine now, and was at least no longer shaking, his body wasn't yet convinced the danger had ended.

"Bones," Jim began, and only then realized his mistake. He'd let familiarity lull him into complacency, and now Bones stared at him incredulously.

"Seriously, who the hell are you?" he asked. "There's only one person who ever calls me that, and you are certainly not James Kirk."

Jim coughed. Of all the things for Bones to say... "Don't be so sure," he said softly. He probably wouldn't be able to keep his origins secret, anyway -- Pike knew, and the younger Kirk had probably figured it out by now. Besides, Bones was his doctor. "You _have_ figured out by now that Nero was from the future, right?"

"So the hobgoblin said, but I'm not sure I believe his crazy theory even now," Bones replied gruffly. "Are you actually telling me you're Jim Kirk from the future?"

Jim shrugged. "A simple DNA test will confirm," he said. "But yes. I'm from the future. S -- Someone else and I got pulled into the black hole after Nero, and we ended up here."

"Oh, someone else. That's great," McCoy griped, even as he ran the scanner over Jim again, gently pushing him back until he lay prone again. The adrenaline did seem to be wearing off now. Everything else he felt started to hit him. "Someone else from the future is going to be showing up soon?"

Jim smiled. "I certainly hope so," he murmured. He knew Spock still lived. The hum in the back of his mind hadn't changed since Vulcan's destruction, so he was probably even fine. Jim needed to know when he could see him again, but he couldn't get an answer to that without knowing Spock's exact location so he could send a message. Their bond just didn't work like that at this distance.

He would meditate later, he thought. Not only would meditation probably help him process recent events, it would help him get into deeper contact with Spock. As a Vulcan, Spock was telepathic enough that he might be able to feel Jim's thoughts even now, but though Jim could no longer be considered precisely psi-null, not after the Nexus, he was still not a telepath. He pretty much had to be deep in trance for him to distinguish any of Spock's thoughts and feelings at this distance, beyond the kind of overwhelming emotions like what he'd felt on Vulcan's destruction.

But if nothing else, he would meet Spock on Earth. The _Enterprise_ would head there next, as Spock would know. He would meet Jim there. They hadn't yet been separated for a full day, but he desperately needed to see Spock again.

Something in Jim seemed to relax as he finally accepted Nero's death and the ordeal's end. He'd told himself constantly this would be the outcome, and had refused to believe anything else. Still, it was an unaccountable relief to wake up and find it true.

Now his exhaustion hit him, despite the hours he'd slept due to the sedative. He barely even heard McCoy's further grumbling as he closed his eyes, and his mind on the edge of sleep almost considered it a lullaby.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six  
2371 - Prime Universe**

 

San Francisco had changed drastically in eighty years. Some buildings had been torn down while new ones were built up. The offworlder people's section, originally grown around the old area of Chinatown, had expanded several more blocks in every direction. Still, there were enough things that had stayed the same that Jim had to keep reminding himself this was the late twenty-fourth century and he couldn't just walk into Starfleet Headquarters and return to work in his office, or go back to his apartment at the end of the day. Both his office and his apartment belonged to someone else now.

Spock had offered him the use of the apartment he and Saavik kept in the city. Jim couldn't bring himself to stay there. Even though he would have the place to himself since both Spock and Saavik were en route and wouldn't arrive for days yet, he couldn't imagine himself staying in an apartment stamped with Spock and someone else. So he stayed with Scotty, who had invited him on return reply to Jim's initial message. He had been ecstatic to see Jim when he'd gotten there. Scotty was a few years older and no longer had any black in his hair or mustache, but was still the same Scotty Jim had known for thirty years.

"I had quite a bit of trouble adjusting meself," Scotty told him the first night when Jim described the strangeness of staying on someone else's _Enterprise_. "Young Mr. LaForge, he pointed out, and rightly too, that my knowledge was just too out of date to help. But you know me, sir. My life is my engines. I knew I could still have a few things to offer, once I caught meself up a bit. You'll do just as well."

Jim made a noncommittal noise, but privately he felt less sure. At least engineering remained marketable no matter where or when you were. Jim was a starship captain, and had spent his entire adult life in Starfleet. What could he do in this time?

"So you'll be meetin' Mr. Spock here?" Scotty went on a few minutes later. "I'm certainly glad about that. I've only seen him a few times since I woke up, but he never seemed right without you. Sort of lopsided, if you know what I mean."

"Not entirely," Jim replied wryly. He wished Scotty had decided on a different topic. He was nervous enough about his upcoming meeting with Spock.

"Aye," Scotty continued. "Not that he hasn't done well for himself, because he certainly has. And it's very ambitious of him to try and bring the Vulcans and the Romulans back together after thousands of years as separate people. But he always seemed like he was missing something. I'd be glad you were back for his sake, if for no other reason."

"Ah, of course," Jim said. "After all, what other reason could there possibly be? I'm sure you didn't miss my gentle requests for your best work, Mr. Scott."

Scotty laughed. "Tyrant!" he accused cheerfully. "I certainly have _not_ missed your unreasonable demands on my engines, Captain."

Jim let the "Captain" go, as he had the "sir" earlier. This was Scotty. He was no less Jim's friend for still thinking of Jim as his captain.

Days later, he vacillated between meeting Spock at the spaceport or waiting until they could meet in private. His indecision bothered him, but he acknowledged, as he acknowledged many times before in the beginning of his relationship with Spock, his usual decisiveness was easier to maintain when he didn't feel so emotionally vulnerable. Finally he decided to just meet him at the spaceport and have done with it. He didn't imagine their reunion would include tearing each other's clothes off even if they were in private, and he hadn't seen Spock in so long.

He was still nervous, though, as he waited for the passenger ship to dock. He and Spock had exchanged messages since their first conversation, but they hadn't spoken to each other again.

And this time, he'd be able to touch Spock. He felt like their last touch had been both just a few weeks ago, and every moment of those seventy-eight years. Entirely too long a time.

Finally that familiar figure came into view. He still stood tall, his stride fully as long and steady as it had ever been. The only evidence Jim could see of his years was the gray in his hair, the lines on his face, and the depth of experience in his eyes.

They hadn't arranged to meet at any particular place, but Spock had unerringly turned to face him, just as he'd known where to find Spock. The bond might still be broken at the moment, but the sense of each other remained.

When Spock finally stood in front of him, Jim had no idea what to do. Toss off a witty greeting like it'd only been a few weeks since they'd seen each other? Press his fingers to Spock's in the Vulcan gesture of affection? Kiss him on the mouth the human way?

Spock made the first move. He pulled Jim into his arms and held him tight. He didn't even say anything; he just held on, bending his head until his forehead rested against the bare skin of Jim's neck.

Other people walked around them as they stood in the middle of the spaceport, but Spock clearly didn't care, and Jim didn't either. His arms came up around Spock as well, his hands fisting in the back of Spock's robes. He closed his eyes, burying his face in Spock's own neck. He'd taken this for granted, once -- Spock in his arms, warm and breathing and _there_.

He hoped he'd never take it for granted again. That he would always be able to recognize the miracle of Spock, even when time dulled the memory of the ache he'd lived with before seeing Spock again.

They still said nothing, but Jim wasn't sure they had anything to say. Not now. There would be words later, since one of the reasons Spock had come to Earth in the first place was for a real conversation. But right here, right now, all Jim needed, and he knew Spock needed too, rested in his arms. He never wanted to let go, even when he knew he had to.

There was nothing more perfect than this.

\--

Spock's San Francisco apartment had a guest room, which Spock again offered to Jim. Jim once again refused. He didn't think he could bear to go to sleep in the same home as Spock but in separate beds, separate rooms.

He noted with interest the apartment actually had three bedrooms. Spock and Saavik did not typically share a room either. Saavik had the master bedroom, because she stayed on Earth more often, Spock explained, but Spock kept another room for his own use.

Keeping separate rooms was Vulcan custom, Jim knew. Amanda and Sarek had had separate rooms, though Sarek usually stayed with Amanda. And while he and Spock had technically had separate rooms on board the _Enterprise_ , they had never bothered with it on Earth or Vulcan. Even on the ship, Spock kept his quarters as a meditation area and his own space, but lived with Jim in his.

He didn't understand why Spock hesitated. Of course it was polite to talk to Saavik before making any decisions, but to refuse even to speak his intentions? And if he hadn't made a decision yet one way or the other, why not? From what Jim could tell, Spock wanted him more than he wanted Saavik, and he didn't think that was just his jealousy talking.

Finally he just came right out and asked.

"Spock, what's going on? Have you decided what you're going to do?"

Spock didn't try to play dumb. "Without speaking to Saavik--" he began, but Jim cut him off.

"Is what Saavik might say worth so much it will make the difference?" he asked.

"The difficulty does not lie primarily in whether or not Saavik will decide to release me," Spock said. "I cannot, of course, speak with certainty, but I do not believe she will fight to retain our bond should I wish it severed."

"Then what's the difficulty?" Jim asked when Spock's pause went on too long.

Spock closed his eyes a long moment. "The Vulcan marital bond," he began, "is simply not designed to be easily severed. Divorce is not unknown in Vulcan culture, but it is an extreme measure, and one taken only as a last resort. The logic in favor of such an undertaking will have to be quite strong before a Vulcan healer will consider performing a severance."

"And?" Jim prompted. God, sometimes getting information about Vulcan bonds and culture from Spock was like pulling teeth, even after all these years.

"Severance is considered an extreme measure," Spock continued, catching Jim's eyes suddenly, "because the deliberate removal of the bond, even by a healer, frequently damages the minds previously connected by that bond. The death of one party poses less of a danger because the mind compensates for natural, unavoidable severances, such as what resulted from my death and your removal into the Nexus. The mind reacts less well to the artificial nature of the deliberate removal of a bond. There is a possibility that any efforts to remove the bond I have with Saavik, even by an experienced healer, will lead to irreversible brain damage. In some cases the parties have lapsed into comas and never awoken."

Jim frowned. "But your first pon farr--" he protested. "T'Pring severed your bond then, and you both were fine."

"That was a betrothal bond. Until pon farr, which seals the bond, a betrothal link can be severed with minimal risks to the parties. The risk grows with the strength of the bond. Approximately twenty-five percent of mature bonds deliberately severed have caused damage."

A shiver ran across Jim's entire body. He'd never asked, in all their years together, what would happen if their bond were severed. He had never wanted to know.

"Don't do it," leapt immediately to his lips. Spock raised an eyebrow, and Jim shook his head. "I want our bond back," he clarified, "but not if removing your bond with Saavik could hurt you."

"Brain damage is not a certainty," Spock informed him. His eyes had softened, though, from the surprise Jim had seen after his abrupt statement.

"Doesn't matter," Jim replied. "Twenty-five percent doesn't sound like much until it means you would never be _you_ again."

"It is a chance I am willing to take," Spock told him. He reached out and brushed across Jim's cheek with the softness of a butterfly wing.

Jim bit his lip on the protest wanting to come out. He had come to terms years ago with Spock's right to take risks. He just hated watching him do it, even more when it was on his own behalf.

"And Saavik?" he asked, seizing onto the possibility she would refuse.

"Saavik may be unwilling to take such a risk," Spock confirmed. "I cannot make such a decision for her."

Jim nodded. He now stood in the strange position of not knowing which decision he wanted her to make.

He excused himself soon after, and went back to Scotty's. He was tempted to raid Scotty's cache of scotch, but decided against it. Saavik's shuttle would arrive tomorrow, and he needed to be clear-headed.

He still found himself in a nasty mood, though, and the weather didn't help. It was summer in San Francisco, and therefore cold and foggy. When night fell he couldn't even see the stars.

He awoke the next day feeling irritable and less than rested and ended up snapping at Scotty over breakfast. Scotty just looked at him and patted him on the shoulder. "It'll all work out," he said. "You'll see, Jim. That you're even here I take as proof that nothing can keep the two of you apart."

"Thanks," Jim muttered, and dredged up a smile. "Sorry for snapping at you. I'm just a little on edge."

"Aye, I can tell," Scotty said, glancing at him sidelong. "But I don't think you need to be worrying too much. I can't imagine Mr. Spock turning you away, not now he's got you back."

Somehow, that really got to him. He didn't correct Scotty about the real problem, but the words reminded him, and he couldn't believe he'd been such an ass as to not have seen it before. "Scotty..." he said, and waited until Scotty looked at him. "I'm sorry about Nyota."

Scotty looked down at his plate. "Thank you, sir," he replied gruffly. "She -- she lived a good life, and I'm glad for that. But I do miss her, and I regret all the time we never had. You tell Mr. Spock from me that if he squanders this chance, he's a bigger idiot than I thought."

Jim smiled briefly. "I'll tell him," he agreed, and squeezed Scotty's shoulder before getting up to put away the dishes.

\--

Jim couldn't help being nervous when Spock finally called and announced Saavik's arrival and readiness for the discussion.

She greeted him with the ta'al when he got there, and he returned it. Her hair now had thick bands of gray in with the brown, and her face had grown lines of its own. Still, she looked like the Saavik he had once known.

"It's good to see you, Saavik," he said, mostly honestly. As conflicted as he was about her marriage to Spock -- he couldn't say he wished they hadn't married, because then Spock would be dead -- seeing someone else he knew made him feel more connected to this new time.

"And you, Captain," she replied. "Spock has missed you very much. Please, come in. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Thanks, but no. I think I had enough moisture coming over here. The fog is very heavy today. And just Jim is fine."

"It is," she agreed. "I admit fog is not among my favored weather patterns."

The three of them took chairs around the Vulcan-style table not dissimilar to a coffee table.

"Is that enough small talk?" he said, once they had settled. He sank into his chair comfortably, but couldn't really enjoy it. Adrenaline spiked his nerves like during a tough negotiation.

"It is sufficient," Saavik agreed. "I believe I can make this discussion easier. Spock, it is my intention to release you."

Jim let out a deep breath, relaxing back into his chair as the adrenaline drained out of him. He remained slightly on edge, though. What about the possible consequences of breaking the bond?

Still, it reassured him to know that Saavik, like Spock, dismissed the chances of brain damage as low enough to risk.

Spock surveyed her impassively. "I confess I hoped that would be your response," he said. "But may I know your reasons? To break an established bond is a dangerous procedure."

She tilted her head. "I am aware of the risks," she replied. "However, Spock, I have shared your mind for over seven decades. I know your feelings for James Kirk. Could you think me so cruel as to deny you this when against all expectations he has found his way back to you, even given risk to myself?"

"I did not believe you that cruel, no," Spock agreed. "But nor did I wish to take your response for granted."

"Logical," Saavik said, "but unnecessary. Spock, Jim...the two of you are t'hy'la, and also k'hat'n'dlawa. I could not stand between you."

K'hat'n'dlawa -- half of each other's heart and soul. The term was used rarely in modern Vulcan -- too blatantly emotional -- but its disfavor made it no less applicable. Jim had known for a long time that Spock was the other half of him. T'hy'la could be used in the modern sense to simply mean a close friend, though Jim and Spock did not use it that way, but k'hat'n'dlawa had no meanings other than soulmate.

He could not sustain his half-resentment of Saavik, not after this generosity. Still, he asked, though he didn't know whether out of some masochistic impulse or concern for her, "Is this what you want, Saavik? Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, but..." He shrugged. He couldn't say he'd give Spock up if Saavik really wanted him, because he wouldn't. He knew that. But he disliked the idea of her sacrificing her happiness for his, or undertaking what might be a great risk purely for his sake.

She raised an eyebrow. "Still so human," she told Spock, before returning her gaze to Jim. "Jim, ours is a Vulcan marriage. It is not without caring and affection, but unlike you, I did not marry him out of love. I simply want what is best for him, and shall be content if he should keep me close as family."

"Is that logical?" he couldn't help but ask.

A corner of her mouth twitched up. "I believe it was one of your philosophers who once said that the heart has reasons for which reason knows nothing. Perhaps it is not the most logical decision by the standards of most Vulcans, but Spock is not most Vulcans. Nor am I. It is my hope he will follow the logic of his heart."

"That is my intention," Spock said. He moved closer to Saavik and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, Saavik."

"Yes, Saavik," Jim added. "Thank you. You don't know what this means to me."

"I may not know what it means to you, but I know what it means to Spock. You are most welcome, both of you."

"What of our bond?" Spock asked. "We must see a healer to have it severed before I can complete my bond with Jim again."

She nodded. "There are two Vulcan healers on duty at Starfleet Medical at this time," she said. "We may approach one of them. Though, if you would permit, my preference is to retain a familial bond with you. The risk of permanent damage in such a case would be less than two percent."

"You would prefer this?" Spock asked, his surprise evident in the repetition. "I had not wanted to presume..."

She raised an eyebrow. "The clan may be displeased at your actions on Romulus, but I maintain no such disapproval," she told him, like to a slightly slow child. Jim hid his amusement.

With that, the discussion was over. Jim felt almost unnerved, having set himself up for a long, nerve-wracking debate about the pros and cons of breaking the bond. He hadn't expected her to concede the field without even fighting. Spock had made the discussion seem far more daunting than it had turned out -- though Saavik had made the decision much easier.

Though of course, he certainly did not mind the outcome. He looked at Spock to find Spock looking back at him, a familiar light in his eyes.

He felt a phantom throb from his bond, still encased in Counselor Troi's barrier. It was as if the bond knew it would soon be completed again. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the full flood of relief -- and, after he opened his eyes to meet Spock's once more, to feel also a familiar anticipation.

Soon he would once again have Spock in his arms and in his mind. This time he would never let him go.

\--

While on the way to Starfleet Medical, Jim couldn't help but wonder why, if Saavik had known she wanted to transform the marital bond into a familial bond, she had waited to meet them in person to tell them. Jim's life would have been much easier the past few weeks if he'd know he _would_ have Spock back in the end. It was probably bad form to ask her, though. She had just given him an immeasurable gift, and he felt crass to nitpick about when she decided to present it. Maybe she hadn't even decided for sure until recently.

He was very interested in how to transform Spock and Saavik's bond, though, and not just so Jim could have his rightful place in Spock's mind back. He didn't know much about this aspect of Vulcan bonds, for all he'd been part of one for nearly half his life.

His and Spock's bond had formed spontaneously during the first five-year mission. Their minds had been drawn to each other enough during their melds in the line of duty to have formed a preliminary bond on their own. Spock had explained it as a kind of basic chemistry -- two compatible elements forming a covalent bond based on proximity. His and Spock's minds were just on similar enough wavelengths -- or of comparable electronegativity, to continue the metaphor -- that they could bond in such a manner. Greater variability in mental affinities meant such a reaction was rarer than with compatible elements, but not unknown.

A Vulcan bond was even something like sharing electrons, though Jim always thought of it more as like a mental Venn diagram. A part of his mind remained clearly Jim, and Spock's mind stayed clearly Spock, but there was overlap, a part of both of their minds very clearly _them_. The size of that part could expand or contract based on the depth of mental contact, but the overlap always existed.

And it had only been a preliminary link. Spock had usually shielded them against it. Sometimes particularly strong emotion or thoughts got through, and it had been useful to make them more in-tune during dangerous situations. Its utility had been one reason they hadn't dissolved the link, though dissolution would have been easier to do at that stage.

Jim had liked his connection with Spock, and had suspected Spock secretly liked it as well. He'd been glad they blocked it off most of the time, because he had spent enough of those years afraid to scare Spock off with the strength of his emotions anyway. But to have even had something like that -- his good fortune always amazed him. His happiness had only grown deeper once they formally bonded and the link strengthened into a permanent bond. He loved Spock's mind.

He loved not feeling alone in his own.

At Starfleet Medical, Spock and Saavik allowed him to stay with them when they met the Vulcan Healer T'Mar, an older black Vulcan woman, though T'Mar raised an eyebrow at his presence. Her eyebrow rose even higher when Spock calmly informed her of Jim's identity and their intentions.

But she only asked, "Will you need assistance in reforming your bond with James Kirk, Ambassador Spock?"

"Unlikely," Spock replied. "Our preliminary link was natural, and the marriage bond has been broken before and reformed itself upon mental contact. However, I believe it best to remain here as we reform our bond, to ensure your assistance is not needed."

T'Mar nodded, then fitted her hands to Spock's and Saavik's faces. The three of them closed their eyes at the same moment.

Jim knew he wouldn't be able to see anything, not without his own connection to Spock's mind repaired, but he couldn't help wondering what was going on.

He knew very little about Vulcan familial bonds. He knew Vulcans were even more of a telepathic species, particularly with each other, than they liked to explain to outsiders. He knew a network of supportive familial bonds helped keep them sane as they repressed their emotions, to provide a regular outlet for the kind of mental energy they would otherwise translate into emotional outbursts. He had no problems with Spock and Saavik retaining a bond of this kind, but he was curious about how it differed from a marriage bond and how one could turn a marriage bond into a familial one.

The process took about half an hour, which Jim spent watching the minute changes of Spock's face. Sometimes his eyes seemed to move as if he were in REM sleep, while at other times the corners of his mouth would twitch with a smile or a frown. One time he even raised his eyebrow.

Finally they finished. The healer removed her hands from Spock's and Saavik's faces. Saavik spread her fingers in the ta'al both for the healer and for Jim before she left. Spock kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, but when he opened them, his face had already turned towards Jim. Jim moved forward towards him without even consciously deciding to do so.

They didn't even speak as they lined their fingers against each other's meld points. They didn't have to. They took one moment to meet each other's eyes, and then Spock murmured his words and suddenly Jim was--

\--Home.

 _Jim. Jim._ It wasn't even a full thought, more like a series of images with a feeling of _Jim_ , with the most welcoming undertone and presence in the universe. A presence so ecstatic Jim could feel Spock smiling in the physical world, as he had once before smiled to see Jim alive and still with him.

 _Spockspockspockspock,_ Jim babbled in a burst of images-feelings of his own.

Spock reached for the bond in Jim's mind, still surrounded by Troi's barrier. When he removed the barrier, Jim only had a moment to feel the lashing pain catch him before Spock was there, cradling it in mental hands. He could even feel the bond healing itself at Spock's touch, weaving itself back together with Spock's own end of the bond, the overlap soldering together as both Jim and Spock applied their strength to making sure this bond would not be broken so easily. Finally it was whole again.

Jim rarely looked at his mental representation of their bond, but every time he did, he caught his breath at the sight. His mind translated it as a thick braided cord, metallic and iridescent, gleaming with the thousand different colors of their emotions, memories, and thoughts about each other. The representation was a closed form, so they could still keep their own separate identities, but it still felt warm and alive. Jim couldn't even tell where the break had been anymore.

Spock drew them gently out of the meld, sending a wash of calm when Jim's mind instinctively protested. But when Jim opened his eyes again, he could still feel Spock, and not just because Spock's fingers still rested on his face. Those fingers brushed against his cheek as they lifted, transferring warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of Spock's skin.

 _Oh, Spock. Spock,_ he sent along their bond, feeling almost incandescent at the ability to do that again.

 _My Jim,_ Spock responded, the words a mental caress.

Jim could only stand there with Spock, trembling just slightly as emotions continued to overcome him, relief and awe and love all tangled together. Spock's own emotions were even stronger, as a Vulcan's tended to be. He channeled that emotional energy into the warm glow of his mind in Jim's, strengthening the bond even further after its long separation.

"Thank you, Healer T'Mar," Spock said, as Jim regained control. "We appreciate your assistance. Come, Jim. Let us return home."

He nodded his own thanks at the healer, who inclined her head in response. Then he followed Spock from the room, exulting in the buzzing of the renewed bond. He only spared half his attention for watching Spock and where he was going; the rest he reserved for simply feeling himself in Spock's mind and Spock in his.

Parted and never parted, never and always touching and touched...

Yes.

\--

They walked quietly back to Spock's apartment. The silence was not precisely comfortable, though, because Jim could feel the shift in the bond's buzzing, the anticipation coiling in his and Spock's stomachs. He wasn't even sure where it originated, but he didn't care.

They arrived at an empty apartment, though he quickly spotted the note Saavik had left saying she was staying with a friend that night and would be seeing them tomorrow for more personal goodbyes before returning to Starbase 1138. Jim could not say he regretted her absence, because after Spock glanced at the note he kissed him.

Jim kissed back instantly, a thrill shuddering across his skin at the feel of Spock's lips moving with his. He reached out to touch Spock's hands, brushing the pads of his fingers against Spock's knuckles, and Spock shivered, his presence in their bond intensifying.

Spock pulled back and raised a hand to cup Jim's face in his palm, drawing it closer so they could rest their foreheads against each other. Sensation sparked in Jim's mind at the touch of their faces.

"Jim," Spock murmured. "Oh, t'hy'la, how I have missed thee. To once more be one with the other half of my soul is to live within joy."

Jim's heart pounded faster, and he felt like the intensity in Spock's eyes should be enough to burn him to ash where he stood. "You poet," he breathed in reply. "I will never stop being glad for the way you see me."

"As if you are not just as articulate in your own way about me." Spock's free hand clutched at Jim's, and with his other hand he moved Jim's face and kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth. Jim kept his eyes closed, took it, and trembled.

This act had not been infused with such tenderness for a long time. Before the _Enterprise_ -B, while they had certainly still enjoyed having sex, it had begun to grow more routine. They still pleased each other, and knew they loved one another, but every touch had not carried emotion on its own.

"Caught me," Jim whispered. "Am I just that transparent?"

Spock's lips curved up minutely. "I regret I must confirm you are."

"Damn. I guess I'm going to have to work on my poker face. You use unfair tactics, you know."

"How else am I to defeat you?"

"I could surrender." He opened his eyes, looked into Spock's again. "I would surrender."

Spock kissed him again, as if he couldn't bear not to. His hand left Jim's face to catch his wrist and play over the bones there, then traced up to play across Jim's knuckles and between his fingers. Jim's hands weren't as sensitive as Spock's, but he could feel Spock's own enjoyment, particularly when their first two fingers crossed in the ozh'esta.

Jim loved when Spock let his hands feel their full sensitivity. Vulcans had so much control over their own bodies they could make their hands no more sensitive than a human's, despite the differences in how Vulcan hands connected to their brains. But when they were together like this, Spock gave up that kind of control, and Jim always exulted in it.

Spock could have kept at this slow pace for longer -- and had, in the past -- but Jim had no patience for that at the moment. He needed more. His hands moved to the clasps of Spock's robes, but Spock stopped him, pulling back from the kiss.

"Not out here," he said. "Come."

And he took Jim's hand and drew him to his bedroom. Jim followed willingly, with an eager hum thrumming through his heart.

Once they stood by Spock's bed, Spock allowed Jim to shove his robes off his shoulders, let them pool on the ground by his feet. He worked on Jim's vest as Jim pulled his tunic over his head, and Jim was already working on the fasteners to Spock's pants by the time Spock managed to pull Jim's shirt off.

Spock's hands caught Jim's arms, then moved up and down them in a warm caress. "You do not need to hurry so," he murmured in Jim's ear. "I am here."

Jim shook his head. "I just -- I need to touch you," he murmured. He got Spock's pants open, and ran his hands down between Spock's hips and the material to loosen them. "We have time for slow later. I really need you now, Spock."

Spock kissed his left eyebrow. "Yes," he said, his voice low in a delicious rumble of sound; Jim shivered. "Have me, k'diwa. I am yours."

"Always," Jim promised, and Spock echoed. He ran his hands up and down Spock's sides again, moved them back to touch the curves of Spock's ass.

Spock -- Spock was familiar to him, yet almost new. He had to explore this older version, to see what had changed and what hadn't.

The thick hair on Spock's chest was grayer now, but still soft, Jim discovered as he nuzzled into it. He'd grown thinner, too. In his middle years he'd had more flesh cushioning the muscle, but he'd lost that now. His angles jutted almost as sharply as they had when Jim had first met him, though still far off from how he'd been after his attempt at Kolinahr, when they'd first bonded.

His skin, too, hung looser over the joints, getting thinner as well. Still, when Spock hissed as Jim kissed the pulse point in his left wrist and traced the line of his vein up to his elbow, Jim could tell it was not from pain.

He tasted the same -- just a hint of copper and lack of salt changing the subtle taste of his skin. Still, Jim decided to press open-mouthed kissed up the other arm and along his collarbone and neck just to make sure. He laved the pulse point above Spock's carotid artery, then sucked on it briefly. It took less time than it once had to raise a bruise on that perfect skin.

Spock's hands ran through his hair, across his neck, down his upper back. His bare hips rose up to meet Jim's still-clothed ones as Jim once more pressed kisses to his mouth, moving away to brush against other parts of Spock's face whenever Spock's tongue tried to tangle with his.

Finally Spock grasped his face and held him still. "You torment me," he growled, and Jim shivered happily. He loved when he could make Spock growl.

"Of course," Jim replied, but he followed it with a long kiss, inviting Spock's tongue into his mouth, where Spock explored him with single-minded purpose. He could feel nothing from Spock's mind but concentration on reducing Jim to a being of pure sensation on top of him.

After several moments, he broke the kiss to pant against Spock's neck, and Spock's hands returned to caressing his back before they traveled down to meet the fabric at his waist. He grunted at the contact, and his hands came around to tear at the fastenings.

Jim started to undo his own pants when Spock knocked his hands away and took over the task. He peeled them down far enough for Jim to struggle the rest of his way free and kicked them off the bed. Spock caressed Jim's cock through his underwear, and Jim hissed at the sensation of cloth against sensitive flesh. Finally Spock pulled Jim's underwear down and tossed them away himself. Jim found that so sexy he moved up to lie bodily on top of Spock, lining them up from feet to crown so Jim could nuzzle into Spock's jaw. Their naked cocks came into contact, and both moaned at the sensation of delicious warm friction.

Jim used every trick he knew to get Spock hard as quickly as he could. Another time he would draw their loving out further, but now he needed to feel as connected to Spock as he could possibly be. He sucked on Spock's fingers, swirling his tongue around and between them until Spock was gasping beneath him. He rolled and pinched Spock's nipples until Spock hissed at each touch to the taut buds. He kneaded the sensitive small of Spock's back, alternating firm strokes with gentle caresses.

And Spock reciprocated every touch, driving Jim wild as one hand plucked at Jim's own nipples and another reached down to coax his cock into further hardness. Spock rubbed their whole bodies against each other until the entire front of Jim's body where they touched tingled mercilessly. The bond between them created a feedback loop that build pleasure upon pleasure exponentially.

But it was not enough. Jim pulled back just far enough to look into Spock's eyes, the brown a thinner ring surrounding dark pupils. Spock looked back into his, which he knew had to be just as dilated, then nodded. Apparently his thoughts were still ordered enough for Spock to get a coherent picture of what he wanted.

Spock slid an arm around him, keeping him held close, then shifted onto his side enough to reach out to one of the drawers in his bedside table. He fumbled only slightly in pulling out a tube of lubricant, pulling it closer to look at the expiration date with unfocused eyes. It must have been all right, though, because he pushed it into Jim's hands.

Jim couldn't help a snort of laughter. "I thought it'd been a few years since you've been on Earth," he teased. "You still keep lube here?"

Spock gave him a look that said he would be rolling his eyes if they weren't in the middle of something important. "It is water-based, and lasts longer," he said flatly. "And Vulcan males, just as human males, emit less seminal fluid as we age. Are you going to continue to comment on my masturbatory habits, or are you going to penetrate me?"

Jim's eyes nearly crossed, and he let out a groaning laugh, at Spock's version of dirty talk. God, something so clinical shouldn't be so sexy. "Can't I do both?" he gasped, his hand closing on the tube before he rolled off Spock, giving him room to spread his legs before moving in between them.

"No. You may pick one, but not both--!" Spock's jaw snapped shut, almost cutting off his last word, as Jim slid a lubricated finger along the outside of his entrance. He blessed Spock's habit of keeping himself clean, which made this much simpler. Spock could have told his body to loosen itself as well, but they both enjoyed the process of stretching him.

"That's too bad," Jim said, slipping his finger further in and continuing to move it around. "Because do you know what the thought of you masturbating does to me?"

Spock's rim loosened under the ministrations of Jim's finger, and further when he worked another in. "Tell me?" he asked.

"I thought you wanted one or the other," Jim teased, closing his eyes at the feel of Spock clenching around him, the walls of his passage warm and smooth.

"Jim!"

Jim rested his head against Spock's knee, then turned his face to press a kiss into it as he scissored his fingers. "You're always so in control," he said, his voice raspy. "Just the idea of you needing relief, not being able or willing to meditate it away, _needing_ to touch yourself -- God. It gets to me, Spock."

Spock tossed his head back. "More," he demanded. "It -- it is illogical to ignore the body's needs. We are as much of the body as of the mind."

"Philosophy during sex. Only you, Spock." Jim rewarded him for being so distinctly _himself_ by leaning forward and swallowing his cock down in one motion and sucking hard before moving off again. Spock let out a shout of shocked pleasure.

But Spock was right, absolutely right. To ignore the body's needs would be illogical, and they were creatures of both mind and body. Jim's mind and body both needed Spock.

Spock must have caught the thought, because he groaned, "Yes. Yes, Jim, talukh-veh, _now._ "

Spock was still tight around Jim's fingers, but he enjoyed being able to _feel_ Jim. Jim pulled his fingers out, quickly spread the lube around his cock, and slid in, the ridge quickly sliding past the loosened opening to Spock's body. Spock let out a hitched moan as Jim moved forward, and Jim closed his eyes, fighting for enough control not to lose himself then and there.

A tug on the bond in his mind made him open his eyes to look into Spock's, and he froze, still buried inside him. He could...see so much in Spock's eyes right then. So much of the love and the joy and the years of pain and grief and hopelessness and commitment to an uncaring duty. The emotions were all right there on the surface, in Spock's mind as much as in his eyes. Jim wondered what Spock read in his.

But it didn't matter. Jim began to move, gliding in and out in long, slow strokes. More than once his thoughts stuttered and dissipated before he regained them.

Those years were gone, dead. The two of them were here, right here, together, _one_. Always one.

Jim needed this. He sped up, fitted a hand around Spock's cock to pump in time with the rhythm of his hips. He needed this so much, the feel of Spock around him, part of him. Himself drawn into Spock in so many different ways.

He could forget himself here, and did. He wasn't James Kirk, former captain of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ thrust eighty years into the future with no idea what to do next. He wasn't even Jim, a man with a deep sense of his own identity.

He existed purely in the now, with only _we/us/JimSpock/together/One_.

Jim couldn't tell how long he'd been inside Spock. The only thing that mattered was staying there. Every part of Spock's mind connected to Jim's emphatically agreed.

Spock's climax began first, his body stiffening beneath Jim's. Jim kept moving through it, but at the end, Spock's mind in ecstasy pulled at Jim's, and he willingly fell off the edge to join Spock in the velvet darkness.

Spock came back to consciousness before Jim, who woke up to feel long fingers carding through his hair. His cock, softened after his intense climax, still remained inside Spock, but Jim didn't feel up to levering himself off yet. He didn't want to leave Spock.

He never wanted to leave Spock. Everything made sense like this, held within Spock's arms and his body.

He stayed because he couldn't leave, and Spock didn't make him, though he would be growing uncomfortable soon. Jim started falling into a proper sleep with his head pillowed on Spock's chest, Spock's fingers in his hair, his hand low on Spock's abdomen feeling the birdlike thrum of his heart, and Spock's mind within his, whispering wordless croons of comfort, love, and peace.

Jim had not been entirely correct days ago when he first met Spock at the spaceport and held him close.

This -- this was true perfection.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven  
2258 - Reboot Universe**

 

The next time Jim opened his eyes, he saw his younger self at his bedside, staring at him. Jim met his eyes, and blinked.

The younger Kirk had blue eyes. That was strange. And he looked taller.

"Hello," he said. He smiled at the absurdity of the situation.

"Hello," Kirk replied, sounding wary. Jim didn't blame him.

"Half an hour, Jim," McCoy called from across Sickbay. "My patient is recovering from broken ribs and he still needs rest!"

Kirk rolled his eyes, but he called back, "Of course, Bones!" Then he looked back at Jim.

"I take it you know who I am?"

Kirk nodded, still staring, rather as if he knew intellectually who Jim really was but had trouble believing it.

"Spock lied to me," Kirk said after a moment.

The statement confused Jim thoroughly. Spock? Lying? Lying was immoral and illogical. He couldn't imagine Spock at a younger age lying to anyone, unless for something incredibly important.

"Your Spock, I mean," Kirk clarified. "He said the _universe would blow up_ if he and his younger self met. I'm guessing that's not actually true."

Okay, what? "Back up," Jim demanded. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Start the story from the beginning."

Kirk took a deep breath and nodded. "The beginning," he agreed. "Right."

The story he told was remarkable, even given all of Jim's experience. Meeting Spock at the disciplinary hearing for the Kobayashi Maru and hearing about Vulcan's distress call. Being banned from the mission because of academic probation and McCoy smuggling him aboard. Hearing the announcement about the lightning storm in space and putting it together with Uhura's mention of a massive Romulan ship destroying forty-seven Klingon warbirds and remembering his history about the _Kelvin_. Convincing Pike and Spock they were warping into a trap. His confusion at Nero's recognition of him and Spock, which now made a lot more sense, by the way.

Then there was the sequence of events Jim found hard to listen to. Kirk described how he tried and failed to stop the drill. Spock beamed down to the surface get the Vulcan elders and ended up losing his mother. Kirk had argued with Spock about the necessary course of action until Spock nerve-pinched him and marooned him on Delta Vega. He had had to run away from the native wildlife and met a weird older Spock who claimed to be his friend and told him about Nero and Romulus and red matter. The two of them met Scotty, with whom Kirk beamed back aboard. Kirk glossed over how he emotionally compromised Spock so he could be captain. Then the crew came up with the plan to get back Pike and the red matter, and Kirk and Spock boarded the _Narada_. Spock stole the _Jellyfish_ and collided it with the _Narada_ until the _Narada_ was consumed in a black hole and the _Enterprise_ had to generate an explosion with its own warp cores in order to get away.

Jim had lived through a lot, and commanded his ship through a lot, but the story still astounded him.

And this Kirk had met Spock, _his_ Spock. An entire _planet_ , and the two of them had managed to meet. Jim couldn't hold back his grin at that part of the story -- he and Spock always managed to find their way back to each other. The grin had disappeared, though, on hearing about the mind meld and young Kirk's description of how Spock was feeling.

"So," Kirk said, after he'd been silent for a moment on finishing his story. "You and Spock are really friends, then? He said so, and I got that impression in the mind meld, but...even then I still had trouble believing it, you know?"

Jim nodded. "He's the person closest to me in...all the universes," he told him fondly. "I was terrified when Nero dropped him on Delta Vega. It's a big relief to hear he's all right."

Apart from the destruction of his planet, that was. Even if it had not been the Vulcan his Spock grew up on, it had still been Vulcan.

"So why did Nero keep you on the _Narada_? Spock didn't even mention you were there. Though I suppose he couldn't, since he tried to make me believe he and his younger self couldn't meet." Kirk glowered at the reminder.

"He wanted to hurt Spock," Jim said simply. "I'm as important to Spock as he is to me. By separating us, Nero hurt him further. And, Jim...don't blame Spock for what he told you. He would have had a good reason."

"Like what?" Kirk demanded, his tone soft but forceful. He narrowed his eyes. "The Spock here nearly choked me to death. I had to accuse him of not loving his dead mother! What was so important he had to keep secret?"

Jim sighed. "I can't know for sure without talking to him," he answered, "but my guess is he wanted to force the two of you to work together, without him as an intermediary."

Jim thought he was right. The relationship Jim and his Spock shared was important to both of them. Spock couldn't have liked, any more than Jim did, hearing about the antagonism between their younger counterparts.

Edith Keeler had once told Spock he belonged at Jim's side. She'd been as insightful about that as she'd been about everything else. Spock knew that as well as Jim did.

The younger Kirk stared at him incredulously, though. "Let me get this straight," he said. "He sent me back here to hurt Spock deeply, nearly get myself killed, pit us against a ship where we were outmatched in every way by ourselves when most of us are just _cadets_ \-- just because he wanted me and Spock to skip through fields of daisies holding hands?"

Jim snorted at the imagery. "He wouldn't have thought Spock would kill you," he pointed out. "I've actually had to emotionally compromise him before, too. I said some pretty nasty things to him, and he managed to stop himself before he killed me. And you weren't outmatched in every way. You had the better people, and my Spock knew that."

Kirk looked away. "Well, you guys were friends. Of course he wouldn't kill you. He hated me." But then he looked back at Jim and smiled. "But yeah, my crew is pretty awesome."

Jim smiled back at him. He had already claimed the crew, even after only one mission with them. He really was a captain at heart. It was one thing to know it about himself, and another thing to actually see it from the outside.

"And Spock is pretty awesome too," Kirk added after a moment. "We actually did end up working well together, once we got in sync. I was pretty impressed he could work with me so well even after everything I said."

"Holding a grudge would be illogical," Jim replied, still smiling. "Vulcans don't pull out the logic just to annoy humans, you know. That's actually how they think."

Kirk nodded thoughtfully. He stood silently for a few minutes. Then he said, "Your Spock...thinks very highly of you."

"Yes?" Jim replied, not understanding the relevance.

"He made sure I would be captain, even at his younger self's expense."

Ah. "Spock never particularly wanted command," Jim responded slowly. "He was always happier as science officer, and satisfied to be my First."

"He...trusts you so much he automatically trusted me, even though I'm still a cadet and have never been in command of anything."

"I trust him just as much," he told Kirk. "We just have different strengths. He knows what mine are. My affinity for command -- it's innate. I've always known that, but you've proven it. Classes and experience are great teachers, and you need both of them to be the kind of captain you should be, but what really makes a great captain comes from inside."

Kirk nodded again, his face brighter and more relaxed, some strain around his eyes eased. "I should get back to the bridge," he said. "And Bones will want me to stop bothering his patients."

Jim laughed. "That's Bones for you," he agreed. "You should come find me again after he lets me leave. We should walk around the ship."

Kirk just smiled at him awkwardly. He didn't ask why, but maybe he already understood.

Bones came over to give him a shot of something, but said nothing as the hypospray depressed. He turned away immediately afterward. Jim, struck by his uncharacteristic silence, called, "Bones?" as McCoy began to walk away.

Bones couldn't hide his flinch, but he turned around again. "Yes?"

Jim opened his mouth to ask him what was going on, then closed it again. Finally he asked, "What did you give me?"

"Painkiller," Bones replied shortly. This time when he turned his back, Jim let him go.

But he didn't dwell on Bones's strange behavior. His absence provided Jim's first chance to really look around Sickbay and see how many patients the staff actually had. Every bed was full.

Nero had attacked the _Enterprise_ before realizing which ship it was. Of course there were casualties. Of course. The people lying in Sickbay now were only the people who had survived. The medical staff must have already separated out the dead and put them in the stasis room.

He looked around harder, but didn't see Pike. He must have been in a private room. Sickbay didn't have many, and McCoy often didn't bother with them when there he had few or no patients, preferring to keep the ones he had under his eye, but with the ward so full--

He saw Chapel passing by, and called, "Nurse Chapel!" When she came over to ask him what he needed, he said, "How is Captain Pike doing?"

Her open, expressive face shuttered. "He'll be fine," she said firmly. "That slug you mentioned did some damage, but he's still alive and quite comfortable now."

"Some damage? What does that mean?" Jim demanded.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," she reminded him, and he cursed under his breath. He appreciated confidentiality, but he had never liked not knowing what was going on with his people, and somewhere during their ordeal, Pike had turned into one of his.

But there was nothing he could have done, and at least the conversation had been a good distraction at the time.

"All right," he said, letting it go. He'd have a chance to visit Pike later, he was sure. "How about finding out when I can get out of here? Broken ribs shouldn't keep me tied to Sickbay."

Now she smiled. "I'll ask the doctor, but I see no reason you can't leave," she replied. "Do you have anywhere to go--" She looked stumped for a moment at how to address him.

He grinned. "Jim is fine," he told her. "Or you can call me Dr. Kirk, if you prefer." It was probably best not to tell her to call him Captain, though he still retained that as a courtesy title.

"Doctor? Surely not a medical doctor," she replied with surprise. Amused, he wondered how much experience she had with his counterpart.

"No, a doctorate in engineering," he replied. "Just as something to do after I retired from Starfleet. What, you don't think I could be a medical doctor?"

She seemed to realize he was teasing her, because she narrowed her eyes. "Dr. McCoy seems to think you're constantly on the edge of killing yourself," she replied. "Are you sure I can trust you to leave Sickbay unharmed?"

He laughed. "Hey, blame younger me," he claimed. "I'm a lot more sensible."

She gave him a look that said she didn't believe him. He remembered that look. He'd even missed that look.

His relationship with Chapel had been strange. She'd eventually gotten over her feelings for Spock, but they'd been strong feelings, for a long time. Interacting with the man who held Spock's heart, and had even during the first mission, had been noticeably awkward for her at times. She'd always been professional and friendly, though, and eventually the awkwardness ceased.

Honestly, he really admired her. He never had reacted well to rivals for Spock's affections himself -- at least, not the ones Spock paid any attention to.

McCoy came over again to give him one last scan before pronouncing him ready to leave. As before, though, he was very abrupt, and this time, Jim called him on it. "Bones?" he asked, once again noting McCoy's flinch at the nickname. "What's wrong?"

"Take your pick," McCoy grumbled. "It'd be easier to list what _isn't_ wrong."

Jim frowned. "With you," he clarified. "You've never exactly been cuddly to patients, but usually you're not so curt."

McCoy scowled, and not amicably, as the McCoy Jim knew frequently had. "Look," he said. "Whether or not you're some version of Jim Kirk from another universe, you're not my Jim Kirk, and I'm not your Leonard McCoy. You don't actually know me." He threw up his hands. "Alternate universes! Even if I believe you, don't go making me into someone I'm not!"

He stomped away before Jim could say another word.

He didn't know what he would have said, though. McCoy was right -- he might have been _a_ Bones, but he was not _Jim's_ Bones. He couldn't replace the man Jim had lost, and Jim shouldn't even try.

He felt suddenly, deeply alone, and longing for Spock overwhelmed him.

Chapel came over to him again, frowning after McCoy. "Well, you're ready to leave," she said, cheerfully. "Has anyone assigned you quarters yet?" At Jim's headshake, she continued, "Well, I'll call Mr. Spock to deal with that, then."

Chapel smiled at him, but left before Jim could find his voice. Spock. How was he going to deal with this Spock, so young and so angry and so very much not his?

But he only had a few minutes to come up with a plan, because that was how long it took for Spock to get to Sickbay. And when he got there, he just stood there in front of Jim's bed, hands behind his back, surveying Jim impassively.

Even knowing this wasn't his Spock, it hurt to see his eyes so guarded. His Spock had not been so guarded around him in a long time.

"If you are ready, I will take you to your quarters," Spock said after a moment.

Jim nodded and stood up. Unexpectedly, even though he couldn't really see anything in Spock's expressive eyes, he could still get a sense of him.

Well, of course. This Spock shared the same katra as Jim's bondmate. Jim's and his Spock's katras were bound together very tightly, and though their bond was not replicated with the younger Spock, his bond still recognized _Spock_ , and provided a sort of echo.

Jim wondered if this Spock felt the bond as well, but decided not to ask. He didn't want to bring attention to any possible mental connection if Spock hadn't already felt it himself.

On their way to Jim's assigned quarters, they passed through corridors almost dizzying in their familiarity. They were modeled more like the original _Enterprise_ he'd known, but some aspects reminded him more of the _Enterprise_ after her remodeling in his time as an admiral. Though the ship was still...whiter than he was used to.

"What's the crew complement?" he asked, growing tired of the silence. Silence could be comfortable, but here it seemed more awkward. Jim had the feeling there was a lot Spock held back from saying.

"Eight hundred and fifty," Spock answered after a pause. "The ship is not currently at full capacity, having been crewed primarily by cadets for its maiden voyage."

"Ah." Definitely bigger -- his own had only held about 450. And he was reminded more and more of the situation with Khan. Like Nero's vendetta against Spock, Khan's revenge, too, had been personal. And the _Enterprise_ then, as now, had been crewed primarily by cadets, with only a few experienced senior officers. He had even taken over command from Spock, though without the violence that seemed to have happened with their younger counterparts.

Spock followed him into his new quarters when they got there and perfunctorily pointed out the amenities. The rooms were bigger than the guest quarters on his ship had been, like the rest of this universe's _Enterprise_ , but certainly still smaller than the ones of the Galaxy-class version. He looked through them briefly before turning back to face Spock, who was watching him.

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" he finally said, feeling a flash of amusement. His own Spock looked at him in just the same way when he wanted to discuss something but didn't know how to broach the subject. And this one wasn't quite so unreadable as he first seemed. Jim could practically see him making up his mind to speak.

"You are the James Kirk from Nero's timeline, are you not?" Spock asked bluntly.

He thought about denying it, especially after Bones's reaction, but Spock wouldn't ask him if he weren't already fairly sure. "That's me," he agreed instead. "How did you figure it out?"

"Nero recognized Kirk as well as myself on our initial encounter. The ship containing the red matter recognized both of us as well, though it stated its manufacture date as 2387. You were the only human on board, which would be logical if Nero had kept you as a prisoner upon your arrival in this timeline."

"Very logical, Mr. Spock," Jim said, hiding a grin.

Now Spock hesitated. "Would you permit me several queries? I find there is much I am...curious about."

Jim shrugged. "Depends on the question," he replied. "But go ahead and ask, and I'll see what I can answer."

He had already determined not to answer questions about the true nature of his relationship with his Spock. He found he didn't want anything to interfere with the developing relationship between their younger counterparts -- he firmly believed in the natural evolution of a relationship. One of the reasons his bond with Spock was so strong was because it had come about completely naturally.

Jim sat down in the chair behind the desk, and gestured for Spock to take the chair in front in a moment of déjà vu. Spock sat, and folded his hands in his lap.

"I cannot help but wonder how you are still alive," he began. "Did you not leave your own timeline in 2387? That is many decades past how long a human should live naturally."

Jim grimaced. Spock never asked the easy questions. "Short answer is, I ended up spending almost eight decades in a pocket universe where time didn't really exist. When I found my way out again, almost everyone I knew was dead. Except for my Spock, of course, since Vulcans live longer." His mouth twisted up in something like a smile. "This is actually not the first time I've had to rebuild my entire life. Now I'm in a time where my friends are still alive, but aren't really my friends."

Spock looked thoughtful. "And my counterpart -- I presume he is in this universe as well?"

"Nero sent him to Delta Vega," Jim replied, feeling another hot flash of anger at Nero. "To make him watch."

Now Spock surveyed him out of eyes of thinly veneered calm over turbulence. "And he met your counterpart there." It wasn't a question. "That is how Kirk discovered information he could not otherwise know. That is how he was able to beam back on this ship despite our traveling at warp. That is why he incited my anger to make himself captain."

Jim sighed. Spock very obviously still had an edge of anger on him, but Jim wasn't sure if the edge was a legacy of Vulcan's destruction only a day ago, or if Spock had always been so angry. But he didn't think it was his place to help Spock get over it. Jim's younger self needed to learn how to help Spock deal with his emotions -- and Spock needed to learn to trust the younger Kirk.

"I think you should discuss that with my counterpart," he said quietly. "I've already talked about his conversation with my Spock with him. He knows more than I do about all of these events."

Spock inclined his head in agreement, though Jim couldn't tell what he really felt about the suggestion. "You are very familiar with my counterpart, then?" he asked. "Twice you have referred to him with a possessive pronoun."

Jim shrugged, smiling slightly. "He's been my closest friend for years." He thought back. "Nearly forty-four of them, actually." And thirty-five of those years married, though Jim didn't mention that.

"And you came with him to this universe out of...friendship?"

"That was certainly part of it," Jim agreed. "He hadn't been able to save Romulus in time, and was determined to stop the supernova himself. I couldn't let him do it alone. He and I...we've been through far too much together."

Spock nodded slowly. "I have never had such a friendship," he said, his voice very low. "Logically, it is not necessary for a satisfactory life filled with meaningful work."

Spock looked at him then with eyes almost begging for understanding. Jim was struck again by how young this Spock was -- still years away from being a full adult by Vulcan standards, with the final mark of adulthood coming at the onset of pon farr.

A memory flashed in Jim's mind of Spock under the influence of the Psi 2000 virus, explaining almost tearfully how when he felt friendship for Jim, he was ashamed. But that half-Vulcan had been older, had had longer to build a shell of logic and encase himself in it. Was this one still young enough that the shell was thin and more easily cracked? Already he seemed more emotional, though Jim didn't know how much was due to his planet.

"There's more to life than meaningful work," he replied gently. "Friendship is not always logical, and any relationship between two complex people is bound to be complex itself, always with the potential for hurt. But despite that, I have always found it to be worthwhile and beneficial -- as has my Spock."

"I will meditate on what you have said," Spock murmured, looking like he was already starting to think about it.

Jim hesitated. How would Spock respond to this next offer? But it was something Jim himself needed, and perhaps it could help Spock as well.

"Spock," he said, trying to word this carefully. "A lot has happened to me recently, and I think meditation would benefit me. But a lot has happened to you as well. Would you be willing to engage in joint meditation with me?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I find it difficult to believe the word 'meditation' is in a James Kirk's vocabulary," he returned dryly. "Would this be a way in which my counterpart has influenced you?"

Jim grinned. "It is," he replied ruefully, though not without amusement. "Of course Starfleet teaches us how, but I always dismissed it. I only really started finding meditation beneficial when Spock and I would do it jointly. He's been...a steadying influence."

Spock looked even more thoughtful. "Has he," he murmured, almost to himself. Then he focused those dark eyes back on Jim. "Are you not psi-null? Starfleet records indicate your counterpart has no psychic sensitivity."

"He shouldn't," Jim agreed. "I didn't until I returned from that pocket universe -- being there made me sensitive to temporal and universal currents and awakened some minor latent empathy. Nothing significant, but I have been able to meditate with a Betazoid and El-Aurian, and of course my Spock."

Spock considered him a moment longer, then said simply, "I will agree, then. However, I am still on duty at this time. What time I could permit for questions to our mysterious guest, I cannot for my own pursuits. Will you wait until my shift has ended?"

"Of course," Jim agreed. "I may be retired from Starfleet now, but I remember what it was like to be on that schedule. Would you like to come here again at the conclusion of alpha shift, or would you prefer me to come to your quarters?"

Spock tilted his head. "My incense and equipment are in my quarters," he replied. "I do not need them to meditate, but..." He paused, then went on, "I do have several cushions. I do not typically use them, but perhaps you would appreciate one?"

Jim beamed at him. There was still some compassionate under all the anger! "My knees will thank you," he said.

"Thanks are not necessary," Spock informed him, though he looked quietly pleased. "Furthermore, your knees lack both mouths and vocal cords and are physically incapable of thanking me."

Jim laughed. "Why don't you just show me where your quarters are, and I'll meet you there after shift?"

Spock agreed, and again escorted him through the corridors until they stopped outside a familiar door, though it looked like all the others along this hallway. It was exactly where Spock's quarters had been during Jim's first five-year mission.

From there, Spock went back to the bridge, and Jim debated for a moment what to do next. He wanted most to go back to Sickbay and spend time with Bones. They had not just sat around and shot the breeze with each other in far too long.

But he was not this McCoy's Jim. This McCoy already had a best friend, as he'd made clear to Jim earlier.

He turned his steps towards Engineering instead. He'd offer his services to Scotty. The engineer had ejected the _Enterprise_ 's warp cores to help get the ship away from the singularity that had consumed the _Narada_ , but that left them without warp drive. Spock in the _Jellyfish_ had not led them very far from Earth's solar system when he'd warped away as bait for Nero, but far enough that it would take them several weeks to get back to Earth on only impulse power.

Jim figured he probably shouldn't give away too many technological advances from the future, particularly until he had a chance to discuss the ramifications with his Spock. Briefly boosting the _Enterprise_ 's impulse engines shouldn't hurt too much, though. Especially when his Spock himself had already given Scotty a more significant equation.

Scotty was ecstatic when he made his offer. "I've been that worried about the engines," he confessed, leading Jim through a much bigger Engineering than the one he had been used to. "Not that the captain didn't make the only decision he could, but there aren't enough people or parts to get the _Enterprise_ in the shape she should be. I'll be right glad when we get back to spacedock, and any help you can give getting us there will be mighty appreciated."

"Of course, Mr. Scott," Jim replied, inwardly marveling at the irrepressibility of Scotty. His younger self and Spock's younger self had so many differences, but Scotty and Bones were so like the men he knew.

"So, pardon my asking," Scotty said as the two of them got to work on the impulse engines, "but are you from the future too? Only we picked you up from that Romulan ship, and I can't figure out how you would have got there except with the older Vulcan I met on Delta Vega."

Jim smiled wryly. His friends were too clever by half -- but Bones's reaction taught him he shouldn't just tell everybody his identity. Spock he could count on to be discreet, but Scotty loved to gossip when the matter wasn't classified. Jim didn't need even more awkwardness with the people so like those he once knew.

"The future, yes," he affirmed, because Scotty probably wouldn't believe a denial. It wouldn't matter as much if the crew heard about him being from an alternate future timeline.

"Wow. Really? So did you learn a few tricks about engines in the future?"

Jim laughed. Oh, Scotty. "A few," he assured Scotty. "Don't think I'll share everything with you, though. Some thing you'll have to learn for yourself."

Starship engineering, while interesting and enjoyable, was not his passion. Still, Jim found himself eagerly digging into these engines with Scotty by his side.

Well, this was the _Enterprise_. It wasn't precisely the ship he knew, but she still had something of the same feel about her. And he had always been content to commune with his lady, whether in the depths of commanding her, or walking her halls, or digging into her engines.

So he passed the time working with the engines until alpha shift ended and Spock was ready for him. He left Scotty claiming he was "only going to do a wee bit more," and knowing someone would probably have to pry him out of the engines later to make him eat and sleep.

He stopped by his quarters to take a quick shower and wash off the sweat and grease that accumulated in a hot engine room when the engines needed physical work done, but soon he headed out to Spock's quarters. Anticipation bubbled in his stomach, though he wasn't entirely sure what it was for. The chance to feel his own Spock while in a meditative trance? The possibility of showing the younger Spock that Jim Kirk was not always as illogical and chaotic as he seemed? Both of those, or something else?

Spock answered his door promptly and invited him inside. The rooms, though bigger, were decorated as they had been on his own _Enterprise_. There were the same red drapes around his sleeping area, the same ka'aythra and chess set on his shelf, the same weapons on the wall -- weapons he kept as a reminder of his people's history, their traditions, and how far they'd come since they were warrior clans who conquered their way across unforgiving desert.

Spock had his meditation mat set out and incense already filling the room with the scent of a spicy Vulcan wood. There was another mat set out close to the first one, with a cushion on top. As Spock took a kneeling position on his own mat, Jim sank down onto the cushion in a mirror image of Spock's position. He arranged his hands to indicate receptivity, then closed his eyes and began to match his breathing to Spock's.

Vulcans would occasionally participate in joint meditation with members of their family, one way of keeping them mentally balanced even while repressing their emotions. Spock and his father had done so when Spock was young, but after he'd chosen Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy, Sarek had refused to continue the practice. He had maintained his refusal as a sign of disapproval even before Spock actually left. After that, Spock had never meditated with another person until he'd taught Jim soon after their bonding, and only resumed the practice with Sarek after the fal-tor-pan and the reintegration of his memories.

Joint meditation, at least among the psi-sensitive, was more a matching and sharing of energies than simply multiple people meditating in the same room. Jim had only been able to do it with Spock because of the bond between them -- until his return from the Nexus. After that he'd been able to meditate with Deanna Troi and Guinan as well, both psi-sensitive themselves, though he rarely had.

Spock was in turmoil, Jim could tell. He didn't know if Spock had managed to attain a meditative state since Vulcan's destruction, but he wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't. His mental energy nearly vibrated with fury, pain, and grief, and he seemed to be having difficulty letting them go. Once a Vulcan let emotion claim him, he was hard-pressed to return to logic -- which, of course, was why Vulcans eschewed their emotions.

Spock would have to come to terms with those on his own -- or, preferably, with the younger Kirk's help. But Jim could help him gain more balance in the short term, in a way that would hopefully lead to a longer peace with himself, if he was intrigued enough to start his feet on the same path Jim's Spock had taken, the one that led to them learning balance from each other.

Jim had his own things he would need to work through, but he could put those aside for the moment. He had had plenty of experience sequestering his emotions as a starship captain. This would be for Spock.

So he ignored his own pain, his own anger, his own grief, his own sense of helplessness, his own uncertainty. What he focused on was the inner core of peace even Nero had not been able to touch, though he'd certainly tried, in attempting to destroy Jim's bondmate.

Jim kept his breathing matched to Spock's and focused on that peace. He didn't call upon any specific memories, only the emotions associated with them. Gentle amusement and affection. Gratitude. Comfort. He kept the associations light, wanting more the flavors of friendship than of the deep love he felt for his Spock, which might well frighten the younger one. But above all, he remembered peace -- the peace of evenings spent in comfortable companionship, of having someone who understood him better than sometimes he did himself, of someone who accepted him.

He remembered that peace and immersed himself in it, and felt it now, and passed it on.

He noticed when Spock seemed to stop mentally vibrating and started to settle with the feeling of a deep sigh. Finally Spock started to feel a measure of peace himself, and shared that with Jim as well. The feeling was so familiar and beloved Jim's own sense of peace increased.

This was the best frame of mind in which to try contacting his Spock. Humans were not great multi-taskers, so Jim would be less able to concentrate on sharing with this Spock, but the hard part was already done -- they had already established their rapport. It would be something like patting his head and rubbing his stomach to commune with both Spocks at once, but he could as long as he didn't think about it too hard.

So once again he reached into the core of him, but this time for his bond -- which was part of the source of his peace, though not the whole. Having the bond be partially the source made maintaining the joint meditation much easier, though.

But he reached for the essence of Spock, the familiar Spock, his Spock, the one who matched him -- and who felt him and reached back for him. His Spock was only marginally more peaceful than his younger counterpart. Though Jim ached to feel his bondmate's grief, he couldn't do any more to help than what he was already doing. He would have to wait until they could meet in person to truly be a help to his bondmate.

They didn't have anything they truly needed to communicate to each other this time, beyond confirmation they were both heading for Earth and would meet there, at Starfleet Academy, an agreement they sent with images rather than words. The rest of the time they spent just touching each other's minds, each other's spirits -- which was, in many ways, as intimate and fulfilling as any hug or kiss, if not more. Their mental communion satisfied Jim for now, though he certainly looked forward to being able to touch Spock physically again soon.

Gradually, his body began to assert a protest to remaining in one position for so long, and with reluctance, Jim let go of the trance. The younger Spock retained it little longer, but he opened his eyes not long after Jim. Spock stood in a smooth, almost liquid motion, and then reached out a hand to Jim.

Jim hadn't expected it, but he smiled as he clasped hold of the hand and let it draw him easily upward. He had to brace himself against Spock's wall once he was up, though, because pins and needles had taken over his legs and he wasn't sure he could stand on his own without falling. Spock didn't hold him up himself, but he stood close, making clear he would help if Jim required it.

"Jim," Spock said, as Jim got his legs working again, "I thank thee."

Jim could even see the lingering peace in his eyes, though he knew it wasn't likely to last long. Trials of the kind Spock had just undergone were not the kind of thing to be put behind after one meditation session. But it was a respite, and Spock had surely needed that.

"And I thee," Jim replied, mustering up a smile despite the prickling in his legs. "That helped me as well."

"Indeed." Spock paused. "If you would permit another query...?"

"What is it, Spock?"

"I...believe I detected the presence of a link between us. Since we should not have been able to create one ourselves, would this be something you share with my counterpart and only the echo of it reaches me?"

Jim carefully controlled his expression. He'd been hoping Spock wouldn't notice that, but knowing his observant Vulcan, it had probably been too much to wish for. At least he had a ready answer. "Spock and I have had to meld in the line of duty several times," he told his husband's younger counterpart. "The link naturally formed between us. We both found it useful and decided not to break it."

That was actually even the truth.

But Jim didn't need to go into the history of his bond. Spock should not be able to distinguish between a familial link and a marital bond with only an echo. He even seemed satisfied with Jim's answer as he bid him goodnight.

The meditation had lasted nearly four hours, but Jim didn't find himself particularly hungry. He did swing by the mess hall to get a sandwich and some water to take back to his quarters, but he ended up lingering over the simple meal taken by himself.

It was probably going to be harder than he'd thought, keeping the reality of his and Spock's relationship from their counterparts. Jim figured hiding the truth would be worth it, though.

Maybe he was wrong to want their counterparts to form a relationship. This was an entirely different universe, and the people in it had the right to make entirely different choices from the people he'd known. Even his own and Spock's counterparts had that right, despite -- and maybe even more because of -- the example he and his Spock set. Jim had always been one to make his own choices for himself, and Spock was the same.

But even knowing that, Jim wanted to see his and Spock's counterparts find the kind of happiness he and his Spock had, and he wanted them to find it together. He just knew he had to keep his hands off as much as possible, because a relationship manipulated into being was not the kind of thing he wanted for himself and Spock -- any version of himself and Spock.

No. If a relationship would happen at all, it had to happen naturally. That was, after all, how his and his Spock's relationship had developed, with friendship, trust, loyalty, affection, and love coming each at their own pace. Rushing something was the easiest way to break it, which was the last thing Jim wanted for their younger selves.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight  
2371-2372 - Prime Universe**

 

Two weeks.

That was how long they'd had on Earth together, before Spock had to return to Romulus.

Two weeks of a second honeymoon of sorts, two weeks of walking through San Francisco and camping in Yosemite and making love and waking up in each other's arms.

It was not enough.

"I cannot abandon my efforts on Romulus," Spock reminded him, just before he left. "That they not only accept my presence there, but allowed me to come here and return, is a very good sign."

"No one else can do it?"

"Perhaps," Spock allowed. "However, no one else has stepped forward, particularly no one with my history with the Empire. They are just beginning to trust me, Jim. An absence too far extended will damage that trust."

Jim sighed. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand."

"I will speak to the Praetor," Spock assured him. "I will ask the Senate to let you travel there as freely as I do. I am not choosing between you and my work, Jim. I promise you that."

Jim nodded, though he was inwardly dubious. He'd only rarely met Romulans in his own time, and didn't have the negative history with them he had with Klingons, but he didn't particularly want to live on Romulus either.

He would, though. Hell, he'd live on Qo'noS with the Klingons if Spock decided Qo'noS was where he should stay.

"I will send you messages as frequently as I am able," Spock said, taking his hand. "Live transmissions will be highly unlikely, considering the distance between Romulus and Earth and that neither side is willing to let civilians have easy access to communications between the Federation and the Empire, but I will still send you messages."

Jim nodded again, holding onto Spock's hand. "I'll look forward to hearing from you," he replied, dredging up a smile.

God. Watching his parents constantly saying goodbye when he was a child had made him determined to never be the one left behind. His mother had always loved him and his brother, but he could see she was missing part of herself with his father gone.

Now he stood in exactly her position. He didn't even have children and a job on Earth to occupy himself. What would he do with Spock gone?

Spock seemed to catch the thought. "Do you have plans for yourself during my absence?" he asked.

"I'll come up with something," Jim replied. His dredged-up smile from earlier now felt more like a grimace.

Spock surveyed him dubiously, but he let it go. Jim made no protests as Spock picked up his luggage to head to the spaceport. This business with the Romulans was important to Spock, and Jim didn't want to ruin it.

Jim managed to keep his misgivings to himself as he kissed Spock goodbye at the spaceport and watched him walk away, but the truthfully, he had no idea what to do with himself.

He had just...never thought about life after Starfleet. Honestly, through most of his career, he'd frankly assumed he'd never live long enough to retire. As they'd gotten closer to the decommissioning of the _Enterprise_ -A, people had kept asking him what he planned to do afterwards. His flippant answer had usually been that he would only have time enough to figure out what to do after it happened.

Well, now here he was, and he still had to figure out something to do. He couldn't live the rest of his life just lazing around without going crazy, and he couldn't base it around Spock; Spock's absence right now made that obvious.

He rubbed his forehead. Well, that's useful, he thought. I've decided I need to decide something. Good job, me.

But he didn't have to decide right now. Starfleet of this time had asked him to come in for a debriefing, and he'd put the meeting off while Spock was there, but now seemed as good a time as any to get that done. Who knew, maybe they would even have a consulting position of some kind open.

Or he could teach. He hadn't taught in decades, but he hadn't been too bad at teaching a couple tactics and command courses when he was younger. Surely tactics and command hadn't changed too much over the decades.

So he set up an appointment with the admiralty, and went back to live with Scotty for awhile. Staying in Spock's apartment was one thing when Spock lived there with him, but he couldn't stay there alone. Not when he knew the place had originally been obtained for Spock and Saavik together.

He'd have to get a place of his own, too. Spock had all his old stuff, but had put everything in storage. He'd have to get the lot out and set up his apartment all over again.

But in the meantime, he'd stay with Scotty. Scotty beamed when Jim asked to stay with him again, and something inside him relaxed to have around one of the last links he had to his old life.

\--

The admiralty did not know what to do with him.

The officers covering his debriefing were Vice Admirals Rossa and Blackwell and Rear Admiral Coburn. Not that those names meant anything to him; he had no idea who they were. At one time he'd known every single admiral personally; now the only one he could say he knew was Saavik, and she had left Earth to oversee her sector.

They stared at him for the first few minutes of his interview, and he looked impassively back at them. Finally, one -- Rossa, he thought -- said, "Forgive us, Captain. It's not every day that history comes to life for us. Thank you for coming."

"Of course," he replied. "And I assure you, this is just as strange for me as it is for you."

"I'm sure," Rossa agreed, smiling sympathetically. "You've likely heard this many times since you came to this century, but could you please tell us your story?"

Jim suppressed a sigh, because he certainly had heard that request many times already. But he launched into the story, with no hint of weariness at the question. He had, at least, grown very practiced with the story, and barely had to think about his words anymore.

"Remarkable," Blackwell said when he finished. She drummed her fingers against her desk. "We never would have guessed you'd been drawn into the Nexus from the _Enterprise_ -B."

He'd heard that many times by now, but he was starting to wonder why no one had guessed. Yes, they thought he'd been sucked into vacuum, but they hadn't been very far beyond Earth's solar system, and vacuum didn't destroy bodies on its own. Had no one even tried to look for him? Any starship's systems could have found organic material out in space.

The thought depressed him, and he tried not to dwell too deeply on the implications.

"What are your plans now?" Coburn asked.

Everyone wanted to know his plans -- including Jim. "I haven't made any yet," he responded politely. "I haven't been here very long, after all. I only had some vague ideas about teaching. I've taught tactics and command before, though it's been awhile."

Rossa and Blackwell exchanged looks. "Captain," Blackwell said, "perhaps you might want to wait on teaching. The galaxy has changed quite a bit in the years you've been...away."

Rossa noddd. "Tactics acceptable in your era are...less so, now. We're more an era of diplomats than frontiersmen."

Or, in other words, no thanks. "In that case, I'm glad I lived and served when I did," he said. "Diplomacy was never my forte."

Rossa smiled at him. "I haven't heard you were so bad," she replied. "Don't give up on teaching entirely, Captain. It just might be a better idea for you to be more familiar with this time before you try."

"Yes, that's probably best," Jim agreed. He'd been trying to catch himself up, but so much happened in eighty years. The overall tone of a time period hadn't even been something he'd thought about, but now it was yet another thing to take into account.

So much had happened. So much he had missed. Would he ever be able to catch up?

"I suppose being out of date means there's nothing else Starfleet might have for me? Consultation work of some sort, maybe?"

But Rossa shook her head before he even finished his sentence. "We would like to be able to offer you work of that sort, Captain," she said. "Unfortunately, the same excuse does indeed apply. We need people who are up to date, not eighty years behind."

Jim wasn't surprised, but he was disappointed. He'd been hoping Starfleet would have _something_ to offer him. He'd given more than forty years of his life to the service, and now they had nothing to give back?

Well, they did have something. Before the interview closed, Coburn offered in Starfleet's name to get him an apartment, since he'd gone missing on Starfleet's time and the least they could do was offer him a place to live.

Very gracious of them, Jim thought as he left. Why, you'd never guess they were one of the most powerful organizations in the Federation. All they could do for an old hero was find him an apartment.

He would take them up on it, at least. Beyond a place to live, though, he had no ideas.

He'd given his life to Starfleet, and not even in an occupation he could adapt to civilian life. Oh, he could get a merchant ship, he supposed, and go freelance. It would keep him in the sky, keep him seeing new places.

Or rather, already established places. Merchants didn't go exploring -- they had to go where people lived. Merchants didn't command crews of hundreds; particularly fortunate ones with unusually large operations had maybe a couple dozen. Merchants' lives could be hazardous, given the prevalence of piracy, but they remained ill-equipped to help themselves. Merchants were the protected, not the protectors.

Jim wasn't sure he had it in him to be a merchant.

He had another consideration before he could decide anything -- Spock. Spock, who spent most of his time on Romulus, but perhaps would need to be doing some other traveling as a Federation Ambassador.

Whatever occupation he settled on would have to let him stay near Spock. He hadn't been willing to let them spend most of their time apart when he was younger, and he definitely would not tolerate that now, when he had so little in his life besides Spock. So any work he found pretty much had to be something he could do anywhere. Staying with Spock was more important than staying in the sky.

Just as well Starfleet had declined his tentative teaching proposition. He didn't want to be tied to Earth anyway.

But the question remained -- just what could he do? His entire life had been Starfleet -- was he even suited to anything else?

\--

Scotty had helped him move into his new apartment, but he hadn't unpacked yet. He'd gotten his old furniture delivered, but tables and chairs and boxes still spread out around the apartment. At least this one had more floor space.

The place felt even emptier without Spock, especially as he woke in the morning, in the bed he'd shared with Spock for all the years of their marriage when they stayed in San Francisco, automatically reaching out for someone who wasn't there. He'd woken with a start when his arm had unexpectedly encountered nothing. It had not been the best start to his day.

Scotty had to spend the rest of the day in class and at work, so Jim spent his time arranging what furniture he could move by himself. He decided to just leave the things he couldn't move. He wasn't sure he wanted to arrange everything completely without Spock's input, anyway, since he at least hoped Spock would be spending some of his time there with Jim.

Sometime in the afternoon, he checked his brand-new inbox. He hoped to find a message from Spock, but unexpectedly found a message from Deanna Troi instead. He smiled as he watched it -- she only talked about life on the _Enterprise_ , some quirky missions they'd been on recently, but she had reached out. He hadn't quite been expecting her, or anyone, to do that.

But the pleasant buzz induced by Troi's message had faded by the time he went to bed, sliding alone into the cold sheets. He fell asleep quickly, and he dreamed of the Nexus. When he woke up, he raised a hand to rub his eyes and found his face wet.

He angrily set about making his coffee that morning, almost spilling it when he set the mug down too hard against the table with his breakfast.

Why was he still thinking about the Nexus? Still _dreaming_ about it? He had left the Nexus, and good riddance. No matter what his life had been like there, he needed to live in the real world. He had to think of _how_ he intended to live in the real world. He had no time for Nexus dreams.

Especially because his life no longer consisted of that kind of peace and joy.

\--

Over the next few weeks, he did receive messages from Spock, talking about his efforts on Romulus to get them to accept him, and to get them to accept Jim. He also got more messages from Troi, and some from Picard, Riker, and Guinan.

He immersed himself in stories about the travels of the _Enterprise_ , though he did go back several times to rewatch Spock's message, just to see his face and hear his voice. He didn't particularly like the content -- Spock had seemed tired, and he struggled with the Romulan Senate, which remained reluctant to work with the Federation at all.

As he'd predicted, the senators had been offended he and Saavik had separated in order for him to have Jim back. Never mind that they didn't even consider Saavik a citizen, and would treat her as they would anyone else from the Federation if they came across her -- she was still half-Romulan, and Jim was entirely human.

The situation confirmed Jim's distaste for politics. He just hoped they would come around soon. Spock needed someone at his side, someone who could watch his back. He should not be working there alone.

He continued to try to catch up to the time period -- he thought he'd made it through the main technological advancements by this time, and the most successful medical achievements, which included the elimination of the headache. He had the history of Earth and Vulcan, plus the history of the treaty with the Klingon Empire and the significant events with the Klingons.

And of course, he updated himself on the Romulans. They had been very insular in his time -- he'd only encountered them a few times. They had a more active presence in the galaxy now, though continued to be still arrogant and insular, from what he could tell. He certainly wished Spock luck with them -- he would need it.

But he still had so much history to read up on, an almost overwhelming amount. Jim only managed to keep reading by picking one topic at a time and not thinking about how very much there still was for him to learn.

He sent messages back to Spock and the people on the _Enterprise_ , who were at least beginning to be his friends. He didn't have much to tell them and so kept his letters short, but they didn't seem to mind. Spock sent his messages faithfully, and Jim glowed inwardly every time he received one, even before he opened it. The _Enterprise_ crew continued to send him stories of their adventures, and he devoured them, always wanting more.

He started looking up their past missions, because sometimes they would reference something he had no idea about -- reading about Q had been an interesting experience; the Q quite reminded him of Trelane and other "omnipotent" beings he had met. Picard had had command of the _Enterprise_ for seven years at this point, and the ship had continued its reputation of encountering some of the strangest things in the galaxy. Its mission files were very interesting reading.

God, he missed his own _Enterprise_. He missed exploring the galaxy with his friends at his back and at his side. Reading the messages from the _Enterprise_ crew gave rise to a curious feeling of combined pain and nostalgia, but the nostalgia outweighed the pain just enough for him to eagerly keep reading. That, or his masochistic streak was rising again.

But he kept reading about the _Enterprise_ 's adventures. It was, quite depressingly, the highlight of his day.

\--

"--the Senate continues to be stubborn, but I am sure soon they will see the logic of my proposal. You never were anything more than an honored opponent, and that more than a century ago. There are still some Romulans alive who remember our encounters with them, and even they can find nothing bad to say about you but that you are human and Federation. Only tradition keeps them from giving way, I think.

"But Jim, you say little about your life now. I know it is not as exciting as it once was, but you handled life on Earth well during your tenure as an admiral.

"And you have told me little of how your search for a new career path goes. Jim, you know you are not suited for an idle life. You need to occupy yourself. You need to have a purpose. Have you considered --"

Jim switched off the message again. As happy as it made him to hear from Spock, could he do anything but nag about Jim's plans?

And he'd dreamed of the Nexus again last night. Of Antonia, and sleeping in her arms, her body soft with a woman's curves, and human-warm. He'd woken up curled around his pillow, which was damp.

Sometimes he went for walks around San Francisco to clear his head. The bright orange colors of fall began to replace the verdant green of summer. The fog cleared up more often, but the air remained cold, even under a completely sunny sky. He'd walk through Golden Gate Park, looking at that landmark, unchanging bridge, and for a few moments could believe he was back in his own time, and he only had to go back home to see Spock and call Bones.

But he tried to think about Bones even less than he thought about the Nexus. McCoy's absence was an ache he wasn't sure would ever heal. God, he missed his brother.

\--

War threatened the Federation, and Jim was stuck on Earth.

He couldn't even get very much information about it. He knew a power called the Dominion opposed them, and much of what conflict existed took place in the Gamma quadrant, far from Earth. But the news reports were frustratingly bare of depth, and he no longer had access to the detailed Starfleet reports, still classified now.

The Federation prepared for war on an _intergalactic scale_. The closest Jim had ever come to real war had been the Federation's conflicts with the Klingons, but the one time they had seriously approached all-out war, the Organians had put a stop to it.

Jim had asked Picard if he could say more about what was going on, but Picard's only response had been to state the _Enterprise_ 's non-involvement. His demurral had to be true. The _Enterprise_ 's mission reports were still filed and accessible to civilians, so he knew they traveled nowhere near Deep Space Nine and the Gamma quadrant. He wondered if it was also an evasion, if Picard received more information but wasn't willing to share it, but Jim knew he had to let that go. It was a captain's prerogative, and in many cases duty, to keep that kind of information to himself.

But Jim was still stuck on Earth, and he hated it. Not that he particularly wanted to be immersed in war, but to just be shunted to the side while war went on around him -- he couldn't help but buzz with resentment. He wanted to be doing something, but wasn't allowed.

And everyone he spoke to just kept harping on about him getting a job. So many more important things went on in the galaxy than what Jim was doing with himself, but it seemed like Spock and Troi could talk about nothing else, and even Picard, Riker, and Guinan had mentioned it more than once.

He kept on reading the mission reports for the exploratory ships in an effort to channel some of his energy. It wasn't the news of the conflict with the Dominion, which he still wanted, but Jim had always been more of an explorer than a soldier anyway. If reading about meeting new species and new planets was the closest he could get to experiencing them himself, well, he'd take what he could get.

\--

"Don't worry about me so much, Spock. I promise I'm not doing as badly as it sounds. Yes, I still haven't chosen a new job, but how much downtime have I had in my life? I'm actually finding it sort of relaxing not to have responsibilities right now.

"I'm still catching up, but the crew on the _Enterprise_ have been a big help. Captain Picard and Commander Riker know what's going on with Starfleet very well, and they keep telling me stories about the things they encounter. Other galactic news is a bit spare, though. Is there anything you get in your position as an ambassador that you can tell me? I guess I'm not used to being so out of the loop.

"I -- I miss you. Do you have any idea how long until you persuade the Romulans to let me join you? Or do you think you might be able to manage another visit?

"Well. I love you, Spock. Please message me back soon."

\--

He woke that night once again with tears running down his face and the feel of the cool Idaho breeze in his mind.

The Nexus.

He was _tired_ of the damn Nexus. He was tired of dreaming about it. He was tired of thinking about it. He was tired of missing it.

His life...had just been so easy there, and it was so much harder here. He didn't even have Spock. The bond in his mind stretched unbroken but dimmed from all the distance between them, so much that Jim could barely feel Spock existing at the other end at all.

He buried his face in his pillow, trying to make his body go back to sleep.

But sleep wouldn't come. He just ended up dwelling on the Nexus.

He did not particularly miss the details of the life he'd lived there. He could go back to Idaho anytime, though probably his uncle's cabin belonged to someone else by now. But if he missed that kind of life, he could rent a cabin in nearly any American mountain range and still be able to chop wood and cook his own breakfast and go horseback riding.

He did miss Antonia, though. Or rather, less her in particular than that she was _there_. She was constant. Anytime he'd wanted, he could see her, feel her, love her and be loved by her.

He didn't really want Antonia, he knew. When they first met he'd had no real interest in her, because he'd had Spock.

But now he only sort of had Spock. The bond was complete, but Spock was on Romulus, had been on Romulus for months now, and Jim still couldn't join him.

He felt like a mass of conflictions. He missed the Nexus, and he hated the Nexus. He wanted to be back in the Nexus, and he wanted to never think of the Nexus again.

Moving on would be a lot easier, he thought, if life now weren't so damn hard. His life before the Nexus hadn't been easy, but he hadn't felt like he struggled with _everything_.

Even sleep. He turned over to stare up at his darkened ceiling. He kept waking up earlier in the morning and being unable to go back to sleep.

As hard as his life currently was, it would be a lot easier if he didn't spend so much time alone with his thoughts.

\--

"I believe I am making progress, Jim. Some of the senators are now willing to accept the idea of you coming here. They have had to amend the Treaty of Algernon to help the Federation deal with Dominion incursions in the Gamma quadrant, and some now claim that after the treaty, letting one human onto their planet is nothing.

"Dr. McCoy would no doubt accuse me of being a 'broken record', but Jim, I continue to worry about your situation there. Mr. Scott and Captain Picard do likewise. You have been looking thinner and your eyes have shadows -- you must take care to get enough food and sleep. I understand you desire news of the wider galaxy, but the details of your own life should be no less important to you -- they are not less important to me. You have numerous aptitudes, Jim. Why not study one further? You do not have to begin a new career immediately, but please, do not dwell entirely on what you are missing.

"I am with you, even when I am not physically there. Do not forget that. My thoughts are with you, Jim, and so is my love."

Jim had been all set to be annoyed at Picard, Scotty, and Spock discussing him behind his back, but the irritation faded at the closing.

"Mine are with you," he said, to Spock's frozen image on the screen. He reached out to touch it, even though he only touched a computer.

He wanted to be annoyed at all of Spock's comments on what he needed to do to fix his life, like it was that easy. He couldn't manage it, though. Annoyance was just too much effort at the moment.

He shoved his chair away from the desk and stood up. He'd go for another walk. That might clear his head.

He'd begun walking a lot, in the time since Spock left. He couldn't stay cooped up in his apartment all day, and even if he didn't have anywhere in particular to go, he still needed to get out and go _somewhere_.

Winter in San Francisco was cold. Jim noticed he felt the cold more as he got older. Living on Vulcan might even be nice at this point. He'd have to talk to Spock about going to Vulcan -- maybe not living there permanently, since Spock still did have his work on Romulus, but spending more time there. He and Spock had visited several times in the course of their marriage, but they hadn't been there in years -- not counting Jim's years in the Nexus. Going back would be nice, and seeing what had changed. And what hadn't changed, since Vulcan was so focused on tradition.

Though Sarek was gone too, and Amanda. Amanda he had expected, since there was no natural way she could have lived to this time. But Sarek, like Bones, he had only just missed.

His relationship with Sarek had been a strange thing. There had always been a mutual respect between them, though Jim took many years to get over the way Spock's father had rejected him for so long over his choice of career. Even then he had only put resentment aside. And Sarek had never been precisely pleased at Spock's choice of bondmate, though he had welcomed Jim into his clan without expressing any reservations.

After Khan, Genesis, and the fal-tor-pan their relationship started to deepen into something more like family. Sarek saw how utterly devoted Jim was to his son, and Jim saw how much emotion Spock's father truly felt for him. Neither had exactly found those concepts a revelation, but the events of Spock's death and resurrection had still drawn them closer.

Captain Picard, interestingly, had been the one he'd discussed Sarek with the most. Picard had once melded with Sarek, just a few years before his death, to help give him needed mental stability, and Picard had felt particularly close to Sarek ever since.

Discussing his old father-in-law with a friend of his in this century was comforting, almost. Almost, he thought -- because it still reminded him that Sarek was gone now, and Jim could never see or speak to him again.

That was true for far too many people. It was one thing to accept the possibility, or the event, of a friend dying in the line of duty. He'd had to deal with that before, and had always been able to prepare himself, as much as it would hurt. But to just wake up one day and have nearly his whole world just...wiped away?

It was impossible to prepare for that. And it was nearly as impossible to deal with. How had Scotty _managed_? He'd even lost Nyota too, and Jim at least still had Spock.

He would have to talk to Scotty about that sometime. In the meantime, though, he'd try to go to bed. Spock had been right -- he wasn't sleeping very well. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

\--

He dreamed that night of Spock, and if this time tears dampened his pillow, they came because he did not dream of the Nexus.

In his dream, he lay asleep in his bed, alone as he'd been for months, but still tucked neatly onto his side, his back to the center of the bed. But then the floor creaked with the weight of footsteps, and the mattress dipped. The covers lifted, and he felt the rush of air against his bare back, waking him up.

Then someone slid in behind him, someone whose touch, whose scent, he recognized. He turned over to nuzzle into Spock's neck as his bondmate wrapped his arms around him, and he fell back asleep just like that, with his nose mashed against Spock's skin and Spock's hands rubbing up and down his back.

Only when he woke in the morning did he realize he hadn't dreamed Spock. His husband was there.

Spock was there!

And Spock, too, had already awoken, his eyes on Jim as if he were afraid Jim would disappear if he blinked. Suddenly Jim could see the weight of their long, more recent separation on Spock, and a wave of guilt hit him.

He had been so focused on himself, on how much he needed Spock, that he'd forgotten how long Spock had already been without him, and how much Spock himself would hate the necessity of the newer separation. He kissed the underside of Spock's jaw in apology, and watched Spock's adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"Good morning," Spock said, his voice deliciously raspy with sleep. Jim shivered.

"Mmm, it is," he replied, squirming closer. Spock was still warm from the covers and Jim's own body heat. "You didn't tell me you were coming back."

"I wished to surprise you," Spock murmured. One of his hands began trailing up and down Jim's arm, while the other remained on his back.

"Well, consider me surprised." He tilted his head up so he could kiss along Spock's cheek and jaw. "How long can you stay?"

"Another two weeks. And I believe I am getting closer to persuading the Senate to let you accompany me. I had several senators agree to act as my advocate in this matter when I left."

"That's wonderful, Spock." He squeezed him tightly in thanks, then chuckled. "You know, I never thought I'd be looking forward to living on Romulus."

"Then you do not mind?" Spock's hand had migrated up from his back to his hair, now stroking it. Jim tried very hard to keep his mind on the conversation and not just melt in bliss. "I know I did not ask you--"

"Hey, it's all right." Jim scooted himself up on the bed so they could lie face-to-face and he could look into Spock's quietly earnest eyes. "I know how important this is to you. I don't think I'd like to spend all my time on Romulus, but I can handle even most of my time, I guess. I just don't want to stay separated from you."

"I appreciate it," Spock told him, still stroking his hair. "And I believe we will be able to take time away. My work is important, but not more important than taking care of you."

Jim ducked his head, touched and embarrassed and even slightly annoyed. He didn't need to be _taken care of_ , but... "You smooth talker," he said. He reached up to capture Spock's palm and bring it to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the center and enjoying Spock's gasp. "That kind of talk will get you anywhere you want."

"Oh?" Spock twisted his hand around to trace Jim's lips. "I believe I have a few ideas."

Jim grinned, and sucked the fingers on his lips into his mouth. He laved them with his tongue before letting them go. "Well, Mr. Spock, as always, I am interested in hearing your ideas."

"Yes, Captain," Spock murmured, which was the last coherent thing he said out loud for some time.

Spock had gotten in late, so after they'd both caught their breath, Jim decided to let him rest longer while he made breakfast. He wasn't a big cook, and the replicator took care of most of the cooking anyway, but he enjoyed making breakfast, and at least it was hard to ruin.

He'd been hoping to bring Spock breakfast in bed -- though Spock tended to think eating meals anywhere but at a table was illogical, sometimes he was willing to indulge Jim. However, he found Spock already up and on the computer, looking at what looked like information from UC Berkeley. Centuries old, and still one of the leading research institutions on Earth.

"Research?" he asked, coming over to kiss Spock on the forehead and set the tray down on the desk. Spock may be a diplomat now, but nothing would ever stop him being a scientist as well.

Spock told the computer to close what he looked at and turned to face Jim. "Of a sort," he replied. He raised an eyebrow at the food. "I believe that would be more stable on the table."

Jim pouted. "But not as fun," he said, as he'd said so many times before. But Spock's eyes gleamed with amusement, so he considered his purpose fulfilled, and moved the tray out of the bedroom and to the kitchen table.

They spent the day at home, idly chatting and reading and watching holovids. Jim kept himself tucked beneath Spock's arm most of the time, content to feel Spock's heart thrumming against his side as they simply existed together. Spock did leave him on the couch to spend more time on the computer at one point, and Jim pouted until he returned, but that was about the lowest point of Jim's day.

At least, it was until after dinner.

"Jim, we must discuss your plans for the future," Spock said after they finished cleaning up their meal.

Jim's mood, which had been hovering at a high point all day, plummeted. "What's to discuss?" he muttered, dropping onto the couch and tilting his head back. He closed his eyes. "I'll find something to do, Spock."

Spock sat down near him on the couch and reached out to take his hand. "Jim, it has been seven months since you returned from the Nexus, and you still have made no progress in finding something to employ yourself. You constantly avoid even discussing it. I do not understand what holds you back."

"Nothing's holding me back," Jim replied. "I'm just enjoying having some time off, is all."

Jim opened his eyes again and looked at Spock to find his bondmate surveying him evenly, not fooled. "You are not," Spock said. "I do not know how successful you are at fooling yourself, but you do not fool me. You are unhappy, Jim. You may try not to think about it, but you are."

Anger flared. "Maybe I'd be happier if I hadn't had you only _two weeks_ in all those seven months!" he retorted. "We haven't been separated so long since _Gol_. You know I never do well when you leave me!"

Well, shit. True as that was, he hadn't exactly meant to say it.

The corners of Spock's mouth turned down. "I realize you dislike our separation, and I share those feelings, Jim. But I also know that is not all. You have made no effort to acclimatize yourself to your current circumstances."

"I have!" Jim protested, stung. "Do you even realize how many things have happened in nearly eighty years? How many new planets have entered the Federation, how many new species have been encountered, how many technological advances there have been--"

"And you do not need to familiarize yourself with all of them. Jim, you are using catching yourself up as an excuse to avoid your new life. You cannot continue like this."

Jim tugged his hand free of Spock's and crossed his arms over your chest. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said flatly. "You haven't even been here."

Jim could see the pain flare in Spock's eyes, and refused to feel guilty about it. Spock was the one refusing to let things go. They could have had a nice evening, their first together in _months_ , if Spock hadn't insisted on bringing this up now.

"I have not been here," Spock agreed slowly, "but I have listened to every one of your messages, and watched as your image changed, as you grew thinner and obviously functioned on too little sleep. Jim, you have not been so thin and tired since I returned from Gol. I know what you look like when you are unhappy, what happens to your body. I cannot let your unhappiness persist when I might do something to stop it."

He wanted to tell Spock to stay with him, and not go back to Romulus. Even in his anger, though, he wasn't sure he could do that to Spock. His work had always been important to him, and Jim didn't want to denigrate that.

But he was still angry, and tired. "I just need to get used to being here, Spock," he said, closing his eyes again. "It hasn't been that long. Dealing with this stuff -- it's just been sort of overwhelming. I just need to get it straight in my mind."

Spock nodded. "I agree," he replied, but his next words dashed Jim's rising sense of victory. "But not as you have been. Mr. Scott has told me you have been spending less and less time with him. You were isolated before, and isolating yourself further will not help. And you need something to do with yourself, Jim. It worries me to see you keeping yourself idle."

"I'm just taking some time--" he denied again, but he knew his protests sounded weaker and weaker.

Was he truly avoiding the issue? How could he have and not realized it?

"I have been looking into doctorate programs at UC Berkeley," Spock continued after a moment, when Jim said nothing further. "I have spoken with admissions staff. They would be pleased to have you apply, Jim, with your credentials and your history."

Okay, Spock expressing his worries he could deal with, but this-- "It's my life, Spock!" he nearly shouted. "Unhappy or not, it's my life! I don't need anyone to arrange it for me!"

"I am not arranging it," Spock said, reaching for him. Jim twisted away, standing up and moving around the couch. "I merely inquired--"

"You _keep doing this!_ " Jim interrupted, truly angry now. "It's just like what you did with Gorkon and the Klingons! I don't need you volunteering me to do things!"

"When you are not doing them on your own--"

"That's still my decision!" he insisted. He paced behind the couch. "It's still my life."

"But I share it," Spock said. His eyes were torturously plaintive, and Jim tore his gaze away. "I share your unhappiness with your life now, as I shared your aching pain about the Klingons then. Do not deny me my place in your life, Jim."

Jim paused. "I'm not," he whispered. He cleared his throat. "But Spock, no matter how much I love you, that still doesn't give you the right to make decisions for me. Especially not without discussing them with me first."

"I tried," Spock stated. "You were not willing to begin this conversation. You kept evading me."

Jim shook his head. "Have you thought maybe I'm just not ready, and I'll get to it in my own time?"

"You were in pain," Spock said in a low voice. "You are in pain. I could not ignore it."

Jim sighed. That helped, but the anger didn't go away. "I don't want you to ignore it," he replied, "but it still doesn't give you the right to take over my life and try to fix it."

Suddenly feeling exhausted, he walked to the bedroom door and stopped there, turning back to look at Spock. His bondmate looked at him from the couch; he could feel Jim's anger, and hadn't moved to go to him. Wise move, Jim thought, not in the mood to be soothed.

"I'm tired," he said finally. "I'm going to bed. Just...stop _doing_ this. You know how I feel about it, and you keep doing it anyway."

He closed the door behind him before he could hear Spock's reply, if he replied. He took a shower and prepared for bed, feeling tired even though the hour was relatively early.

But despite his weariness, he found himself lying awake as the minutes ticked away. Just like last night, he lay with his back to the center of the bed and the door. Part of him kept waiting for that door to open and Spock to slide into bed behind him, their argument, if not forgotten, at least put aside for the night.

But though Jim lay awake long into the night, the door did not open and his bondmate did not come. Despite the warmth of the covers, the bed remained cold with only one person in it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine  
2258 - Reboot Universe**

 

The first week of their journey back to Earth passed quickly. On the third day, McCoy summoned him back to Sickbay to take care of his ribs -- the bone-setting laser had finally been repaired. At last, Jim could take a breath without feeling the pain that had quickly become so much a part of him he'd relegated it to the background.

"I want you back tomorrow," Bones told him, "just to be sure they're still mending right after some time to themselves. You're cleared to resume all your normal activities, though."

McCoy kept his tone determinedly professional. Nothing about his demeanor invited the joking and teasing interaction he'd had with his own Bones, and that he'd seen this one engage in with the younger Kirk on the few occasions his younger self had appeared in the mess with Bones in tow.

He'd only seen his own and Spock's counterparts a few times. Jim had heard through the grapevine that the younger Kirk had made it through his preliminary debriefing from the Admiralty over the comm system intact, and was even being allowed to stay in command until they returned to Earth. After their return, though, what would happen to him was up in the air. But in the meantime, he was engaged in running the ship, and really _learning_ how to run the ship.

Spock was helping him. Jim smugly listened as the crew marveled over the first officer's willingness to help the acting captain when it was common knowledge he'd accused him of cheating on an exam just hours before the _Narada_ mission. Jim felt no surprise -- logic dictated Spock would want to find out more about the younger Kirk. As well, now Kirk had been confirmed as acting captain, Spock would have no compunctions about doing his duty to his superior officer.

Jim, of course, spent a lot of time with Scotty, working on the engines. He had seen very little of Sulu and Chekov, but what had surprised him most was the one conversation so far he'd had with Uhura.

He'd been eating his dinner in the officer's mess, where all ship's guests were allowed to eat, when she slid her tray across from him and sat down. He'd eaten most of his meals alone, which depressed him, but he understood. He got along with the old friends he'd encountered on this ship, but they kept giving him strange glances, and he wondered what they knew.

Uhura just sat there eating for a moment, but finally she put down a piece of flatbread and looked at him straight on. Like Spock, she too seemed to have an edge on her, though he didn't know where it came from. Her demeanor carried tension he'd never noticed in his own Uhura.

"I've heard you're from the other universe," she said bluntly when he just looked back at her, calmly eating. "That you're James Kirk from the other universe."

He raised an eyebrow, something he'd learned from Spock. "Is it all over the ship, then?"

"Just among the senior officers -- or at least, the cadets who have taken the places of senior officers." For a moment she looked disturbed, but she quickly controlled herself. "Dr. McCoy has been very vocal in his disapproval of recent 'unnatural' events. Is it true, then?"

He debated denying it, but Uhura knew how to be discreet. "Yes, it's true," he replied, after swallowing another bite of his chicken and rice. "Was there something you wanted to ask me? Apart from my younger self and Mr. Spock, no one else has sought me out."

She hesitated. "Not exactly," she said. "I suppose I just...wanted to see what you were like."

He smiled. "Have you made any judgments so far? We haven't exactly had a long conversation."

"You're...not what I expected," she said finally, starting to eat again.

"What did you expect?" he asked, honestly curious. Nyota Uhura had always been one of his more insightful friends, and he'd always trusted her judgment. That was one reason why she'd been his communications officer -- she had to be able to understand and offer advice about unknown communications, which was harder than it sounded.

"I don't know," she replied with a shrug. "You hitting on me immediately? Kirk never seems to miss an opportunity to hit on someone."

A wave of disappointment struck Jim hard. He'd heard his younger self might not be as...mature as he'd been at the same age, but Uhura sounded so dismissive. How much of an idiot _was_ his counterpart?

She must have seen his disquiet, because she continued, "He's done better as captain than I thought he would. I never thought he would take it so seriously, and he has been. But he just doesn't seem to respect people."

Jim frowned. That wasn't what he had seen, but admittedly, he had spent very little time with his counterpart. "How so?" he asked.

She looked away, but he could see the anger pass across her face. "Haven't you heard about what he did on the bridge to get the captaincy? No matter how well he did once he was captain, that was disgraceful."

Jim debated telling her, but he'd already decided to trust her discretion. "He did that on advice from _my_ Spock, the Spock from my universe who ended up here with me. Nero left him on Delta Vega, which is where he met my young counterpart."

Uhura frowned, but then she shook her head. "Even so, the things he said--"

"Were things he had to say," Jim interrupted. "Would Spock have responded to anything else? Unlikely, and I say that from decades of experience with my Spock. He did what he had to do."

She sighed. "I know, I suppose," she agreed reluctantly. "We never would have defeated Nero if he hadn't provoked Spock. I just can't like--" She stopped herself, her mouth turning up in a wry half-smile.

She didn't have to like her superior officer's methods and decisions. She just had to put up with them. Jim knew that could be harder than it sounded, and it looked like Uhura was now discovering that for herself.

"If it helps," Jim offered, "I don't think he's pleased with what he had to do either. He just didn't let that stop him."

She tilted her head. Her smile gentled. "Indecisiveness has never been one of his faults," she murmured. "Not that he always makes good decisions, but..."

Jim nodded. "No one does," he agreed. "I've made plenty of horrible decisions in my time. Sometimes, though, I made the only decision I could, and bore the consequences the best I could. No captain can do any more."

She folded her arms on top of the table. "This must be so strange for you," she commented. "You knew all of us when you were younger?"

"Yes." His closest friends...he'd missed them all terribly. He looked in her eyes, and his throat closed for a moment. Warm brown eyes glimmering with the beginnings of wisdom -- she was _Nyota_.

He cleared his throat, but when he spoke again, his voice was slightly hoarse. "By the time Spock and I appeared in this universe, he and Scotty and I were the only ones of our friends left."

She covered his hand briefly in a gesture of wordless compassion, then pulled her hand back. "So, you know your Spock well?" she asked, looking curious.

He was getting tired of explaining that yes, he and his Spock were actually friends. His heart tore that their friendship came as a surprise to anyone, since it was something of a minor legend in their own universe.

"He and I met under less trying conditions than the ones you know," he explained. "He very quickly became my closest friend, and has held that position for about forty-four years now."

"I'm having some difficulty wrapping my mind around that," she confessed. "The Spock I know doesn't seem to know how to have friends, much less anything else."

Spock's difficulties with friendship were hardly anything new to Jim, who seized on the rest of her statement. "Anything else?"

She smiled self-consciously, looking away before returning her eyes to him. "Well, I suppose it's not really a secret after this mission, not after Kirk and Mr. Scott saw us kissing," she said. If that hadn't short-circuited his brain, her next statement pretty much did. "Spock and I are together."

For long moments he could only gape at her. He wasn't even sure if he even blinked. He got control of himself as quickly as he could, but -- Spock was _his_.

He wasn't proud, but neither was he surprised, that his first reaction was a heart-pounding rush of jealousy and possessiveness. Which was ridiculous, because it wasn't even his Spock. And this wasn't Scotty's Uhura, he reminded himself after a wave of indignation threatened to rise on Scotty's behalf.

He'd already told himself he wouldn't interfere in the younger Kirk and Spock's relationship. He knew they had the right to make their own choices about who they loved.

But possessiveness was still his first reaction, and he had to choke that down before he said anything unwise.

Uhura's face, which had held a combination of shy pleasure and self-conscious pride, dimmed into a more neutral expression as the silence stretched.

"We weren't together in your universe," she said, measuring his reaction, though he hoped she couldn't see anything but surprise. "Were we."

She couldn't keep the traces of sadness and disappointment out of her own voice. Had she told him hoping to find out the Spock and Uhura of Jim's universe had been together?

It struck him, then, how very young this Uhura was. He thought he could finally identify the edge of tension he'd noticed in her earlier -- insecurity. This Uhura, at the very beginning of her career, would be trying so hard to be an exemplary officer. He hoped she got the professional validation she needed from her superiors, but, maybe only because he knew his Uhura so well, he could see her need for more personal validation as well. Her relationship with Spock was not likely so established that she was secure in it.

He took a breath and firmly got a hold of himself. How to answer this without interfering? "The Spock I know wasn't really ready for serious romantic relationships at this age," he said carefully. "By the time he could admit he loved someone, he was past forty. But don't let that discourage you," he added, knowing he had to say it even as he hated it. No interfering meant no interfering, not even subtly, and it meant fixing whatever damage he did. "Your Spock--" and he tried not to choke on calling him that, "--is already different from the one I know. I haven't spent much time with him, but enough for me to tell that. Maybe he can handle a serious romantic relationship right now."

He actually did take the Prime Directive seriously, both the regular version and the temporal, no matter what the people of future generations said. As disturbed as he was at even the thought of someone else with Spock, he had to deal with it.

Uhura's revelation, however, made him want his own Spock even more desperately than he had before. He wanted to bury himself in Spock's mind and body until they didn't even feel like separate people anymore, affirm their soul-deep connection to each other.

Uhura looked marginally more cheered after his little speech, though, which lifted his mood a little. As possessive as he felt about Spock, he didn't want to hurt her. Still, he left the mess after a few more brief comments. His appetite had disappeared.

He wandered the ship for awhile after that, her steady hum soothing him as it had done countless times in his years commanding her. He didn't pay attention where he wandered, and felt like he'd only blinked and found himself outside Sickbay.

This was probably a situation he would have taken to his Bones. Bones would have been expressing both his sympathy and his exasperation that Jim let Uhura's disclosure get to him. Jim was exasperated with himself, because he should understand by now not everything would be exactly the same as in his universe. Everyone in this universe was a different person from the ones he knew, including his own counterpart and Spock's. Their lives were different -- maybe their destinies were too. No matter how Jim felt about his connection with his Spock, he had no right to force it on any other Kirk and Spock.

But he couldn't talk to this Bones about it. This McCoy wouldn't welcome personal discussions from him.

There was still someone in Sickbay he might talk to, though. Chris Pike was still bedridden, his legs not yet working properly, though Jim didn't know any of the details. He'd visited briefly a few days before, but Pike spent a lot of time sleeping. He might as well see if he was awake now.

Pike was, and Bones even said he could have visitors, though he made sure to scowl at Jim to intimidate him into not tiring Pike out. Jim wasn't fazed, though; he'd been on the receiving end of so many of Bones's scowls he was pretty much immune to them.

"Hello, Captain Pike," he said, settling into the chair by his biobed. "How are you doing?"

"Bored as hell," Pike replied, throwing him a disgruntled look and moving his computer aside. "And call me Chris, _Captain_ Kirk. Or don't you remember you've done it before?"

Jim smiled. "Chris, then," he said. "And of course it's Jim. But I called you that before because I knew your counterpart in my universe. Now I'm trying to remember that all the people on this ship I know are not actually the people I know."

"Not doing well with that, huh?" Pike asked, crossing his arms. "I don't blame you. I can't imagine how strange this must be for you."

"Strange is an understatement," Jim replied. He crossed his legs and settled back in his chair. "I think it's a good thing this isn't the first time I've been thrown around in time. Did I tell you about that? I got thrown into a pocket universe where time didn't exist for seventy-eight years, and when I came out, almost everyone I knew was dead. If I could adjust to that, I can adjust to this."

Pike snorted. "I wouldn't want to be in your shoes," he said. "It's pretty amazing, the kinds of things you've experienced."

"Amazing is one way of putting it," Jim agreed. "But you know, when I retired from Starfleet, I thought I'd retired from all the things the universe could throw at me. I both love and hate being proven wrong about that. I'm an explorer at heart, but I'm getting too old for this."

"Me too," Pike replied, then glared down at his legs. "But I don't know how well I can explore with legs that don't work."

This was one of the hard things about being back in time. Twenty-third century medicine had a lot more difficulty with paralysis of any sort than the twenty-fourth century. Pike might regain the use of his legs if that slug had truly paralyzed him, but it would take him a long time and a lot of work.

And truthfully, Starfleet was not very disability-friendly, particularly for those on active starship duty. It advertised itself as a peacekeeping and exploratory armada, but it had its military aspects, and for those, Starfleet required a sound body -- or at least, one that could be made sound by technological advancements, like with Geordi LaForge, who didn't even need his VISOR to see anymore.

Jim didn't want to give Pike either false hope or fake-sounding platitudes, so he just inclined his head in agreement until Pike changed the subject.

"So, you look like a man with something to say," Pike said, smiling. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Jim briefly debated telling Pike about his relationship with his own Spock, but he decided against it. He recognized the desire came from the disquiet of his conversation with Uhura. He shouldn't make a decision based on a passing insecurity, though.

"I'm worried about my Spock," he said instead. "Nero dumped him on Delta Vega. Apparently my younger self met him there and he's fine, but a lot's happened and I'll feel better when I can see him again."

Which was a severe understatement.

"You'll be meeting him soon, though," Pike pointed out. "We're only another week or so from Earth. Spock will be headed there, right?"

Jim nodded. "I don't know when he'll get there, though. All he had was the shuttle left for the team on Delta Vega. It doesn't have warp capacity, though, so he'll still have to catch a ride from a ship that does."

"That shouldn't be a problem, though. There will be plenty of ships converging on the Eridani system, and this one."

Jim nodded. There certainly were, though all had been smaller ships. None of them could help tow the _Enterprise_ in, so the ship was still on her own. But any of those smaller ships could have taken in a shuttlecraft.

"My Spock will be glad to see you," Jim said. "I don't know how long you've known this one, but my Spock served with our Chris Pike for thirteen years. He respects you a lot."

Spock respected him enough to have hijacked _Jim's_ ship for Pike's sake. Jim didn't resent him for that -- he knew the loyalty of a Vulcan. But in the beginning it had rankled, both Spock's actions and that he had kept it secret from Jim partly to protect him. Jim didn't know what he would have decided had Spock come to him with his problem, but Spock had taken the decision out of his hands. He hadn't liked that.

He had never resented Chris for it, though, so when Pike smiled, he echoed it. "I scooped him up for the _Yorktown_ right after he finished the Academy," Pike replied, chuckling. "The other captains sort of hated me for getting there first. Spock was rather bewildered at all the courting going on."

"And then he put his foot down and cited his duty to his previous commitment and stayed with you?"

Pike nodded. "That's exactly what he did. He's done the same for you?"

"Yes, though his friendship with me was the prior commitment," Jim replied, remembering with fondness Spock's stubbornness in those early years. "I'd actually been promoted to admiral after the first five-year mission, and the brass wanted to give Spock a ship of his own. He pretty much told them where to shove it, and started teaching at the Academy." He didn't mention the whole Kolinahr thing and the V'Ger crisis -- it wasn't relevant.

Pike whistled. "Admiral after one five year mission. That's pretty impressive."

Jim snorted. "I never should have accepted promotion," he replied. "I hated it. I felt grounded and useless pretty much the entire time. Having Spock and some of my other friends around was the only thing that made it bearable. I was so glad when Starfleet finally made me a captain again and gave me back my ship."

"And never mind it was technically a demotion?" Pike said, but he smiled.

Jim waved that off. "As if I cared about honors and rank. I'm a starship captain at heart, Chris. Even though I've been many years retired and doing something else, I'm still a starship captain."

And part of him always felt incomplete because of it, now he was a captain without a ship. Being grounded now was more bearable than it had been when he was an admiral, because he knew he _was_ getting old and he hadn't been rated for the Starfleet of Picard's time. As an admiral, though, he knew he still _could_ have been a captain.

Besides, he needed Spock more than he needed a command of his own. Staying with Spock was worth it. He even understood the part of Jim that still yearned for his ship, would always yearn for his ship, and never resented it. He knew Jim's heart, and knew his place in it.

Pike nodded. "I could see it in young Kirk," he said. "You know, I actually met him after he lost a bar fight against four of my cadets? I could tell he had spirit even then, and he was almost ridiculously smart, when I looked him up. Especially considering his father. I knew he needed more than Iowa could offer him, so I told him to join Starfleet, but even I didn't expect this from him."

Jim smirked, though inwardly he was also pretty amazed at what his younger self had accomplished. A lot of it had been luck, but the younger Kirk had been able to take that luck and push it farther, really take advantage of it. Not everyone had that talent. "Never underestimate James Kirk," he said. "I've lost count of how many situations I got through because people underestimated me." But then he frowned. "What do you mean, especially considering his father?"

"You know about George and the _Kelvin_ , right?" Jim nodded, and Pike shrugged. "George is known as a hero throughout the Federation. If he had anything of George in him, I knew he could go far. I just never guessed how far."

Somewhere deep in his chest, Jim felt a sense of disquiet. "Don't tell him about me, would you?" he asked. "He knows about the captain thing already, but the promotion, the rest of it -- don't tell him."

Pike looked at him critically. "You think he'll resent it?"

Jim crossed his arms and shifted in his chair. "I think he's already been living under the shadow of a hero," he replied. "He doesn't need to live under another one, particularly one who's him from another universe. I'm sure he'd thrive under the pressure, but it would also be a burden, and he'll thrive anyway. I think he'd be better off if he knows no more about me than I was a starship captain and my Spock respects and trusts my abilities."

Pike nodded. "I agree," he said. "Besides, he'll likely have enough pressure just living up to this stunt."

"Lucky him," Jim replied caustically, remembering the accolades heaped on him after the V'Ger crisis, no matter how much he'd tried to divert the attention to Decker, Ilia, and Spock, who had been the true heroes there. He'd been in command, so he got the public credit.

He didn't envy his younger counterpart there, who would also have to learn to deal with it, and much younger than Jim had been, too. Jim hoped public recognition wouldn't go to the younger Kirk's head, but despite all the tales of his ego he'd been hearing, Jim didn't think it would. He could recognize he had an ego of his own, and he'd only been impatient with public accolades.

For that reason, he and Spock had kept their relationship quiet, after their bonding. The public was actually interested in their lives, which Jim hated. He hadn't wanted to fan the flames, like the knowledge of any relationship would. There was something about sex and relationships that turned not just humans, but plenty of other species, into avaricious voyeurs, and Jim didn't want to share his relationship with Spock with anyone.

Pike yawned, though he looked sour when he finished it, and Jim laughed. "McCoy will have my head if I keep you up when you're getting tired," he said, standing.

"I'll be glad when I'm off the drugs," Pike replied, still sour. "Thanks for coming by, Jim."

"Any time," Jim assured him, and meant it. Pike was a good three decades younger than him at this point, but he understood Jim better than the younger versions of his friends.

He left Pike's room, in a much better mood now than he had been after his encounter with Uhura. This Pike, of course, was younger than the one Jim had known, but they had still been able to connect.

There was someone else he also wanted to talk to, though, after finding out he was on this ship. And Jim didn't think this conversation would be as easy as the one he'd had with Pike.

\--

"T'nar pak sorat y'rani," Jim said when Sarek's door slid open. He spread his hand in the ta'al, and waited until Sarek slowly spread his fingers as well. He'd used a phrase of formal greeting, thinking that "live long and prosper" was not exactly appropriate after such devastation.

"T'nar jaral," Sarek responded, the formal reply to Jim's greeting.

Jim lowered his hand. "I would have speech of you, Ambassador Sarek," he continued, also in Vulcan. His reasons for using the language were complicated -- he wanted to show Sarek respect, wanted Sarek to respect him, wanted to show he was not untouched by Vulcan's tragedy.

"Come in." Sarek stepped aside so Jim could enter. When the door hissed shut behind him, Sarek said, "You do not wear a Starfleet uniform, and you were not among those this ship rescued from the planet."

Jim shook his head. "My story is the reason I came to speak with you," he told the man who was and was not his father-in-law. "I believe you deserve to hear it."

He'd debated with himself about having this conversation for days. He knew he'd probably be an intrusion, but the Vulcans deserved to know exactly why their planet had been destroyed.

"If I might offer you a seat?" Sarek said, indicating the chair in front of the desk. When Jim sat down, he took the seat behind the desk. "Proceed."

"First, how much have you been told about Nero?"

Sarek kept his face and body still. "That he was a Romulan from the future who bore a grudge against my planet for being unable to stop the destruction of Romulus in another timeline."

Jim nodded. "Those are the basics," he said, "but I thought you should know the whole story."

And so he told him. He told him who he was, his time in the Nexus, and about his Spock's work on Romulus after his retirement from Starfleet. He told the story of the Hobus supernova and their attempts to stop it -- attempts that came too late to save Romulus. He explained how Nero decided their failure meant they'd been lying to him about their intentions, and Nero's claims of revenge. And he told about the red matter, his and Spock's journey to inject it into the supernova, their travel through the black hole, and their capture by Nero. He even mentioned that the younger Kirk's antagonism of Spock on the bridge had been on the advice of his own Spock on Delta Vega.

"You and the son who is not my son have been through much," Sarek said when he finished. His face remained unreadable, even to Jim who had known him for decades.

"As have you," Jim replied. He closed his eyes. "Ambassador...I grieve with thee for the loss of thy people, and thy wife."

"I thank thee, for thy words and thy story," Sarek responded, then moved away from the formal language. "Did you know my wife in your universe, Dr. Kirk?"

"I did," Jim said, remembering Amanda, who had welcomed him into her family with joy. She had been so happy that Spock had someone who loved him. "We had many things in common. She enjoyed speaking to someone who appreciated your people as she did."

"Many humans have had difficulty relating to Vulcans," Sarek agreed. "My wife was rare in her ability to bridge the gaps between us."

Jim nodded. Most people, of both species, didn't even care to try. "It took me time to understand Spock even as much as I do now," he said. "But it was worth it."

"I...am gratified my son has found someone to appreciate him. He is a unique individual."

"Yes, and he struggled with that." Jim tactfully didn't mention Sarek's own part in Spock's struggle. He had taken a long time to get there, but he had eventually forgiven Sarek for his treatment of Spock. "But the Spock I know is at peace with himself and who he is, the human half and the Vulcan."

"My wife would have been glad to know it," Sarek replied quietly. "She worried about him very much. She was never satisfied with a Vulcan's dismissal of happiness as a life goal."

"My Spock has known happiness," Jim told him. "But he is still a Vulcan. The Sarek and Amanda I knew -- they were both proud of him."

Sarek didn't protest that pride was a human emotion. "I hope I should always have pride in my son," he said instead. "He has always been worthy of it."

But Jim frowned. "Does he know?" he asked. "Forgive me, Ambassador, but at this point in his life, my Spock had been estranged from his father."

Sarek...actually looked sad. "I did not approve of Spock's decision to reject the Vulcan Science Academy and join Starfleet," he replied. "My wife's attempts at our reconciliation failed. Now she is gone, and Spock is all I have left of her. It would be disrespectful of her memory to reject those aspects of her that found expression in our son."

Jim chose not to mention how that would have been just as applicable when she was alive. He understood the way death made people reevaluate their lives. "You loved her very deeply," he said, just to see if Sarek would face it. Spock had never known, really known, that his father loved him and his mother until after Sarek's death, through a meld with Picard.

But Sarek gave no denials. "I did," he agreed. "I still do."

Yes. "I understand," Jim murmured, looking at his hands.

When he looked up again, Sarek was watching him with eyes that seemed to see too much. "You do, don't you?" he said. "Dr. Kirk, what is the nature of your relationship with the son who is not my son?"

Jim smiled. Perhaps it was unsurprising Sarek saw what gave Jim such an understanding -- as a diplomat, he was alert to nuances other people might miss. "He and I are bonded, yes," he replied, answering the real question he could hear under the first. "Very deeply. I actually even know how you feel -- you remember my mention of my time in the Nexus, the pocket universe that was how I survived until 2387? Universal bounds...broke my bond with Spock. I came out to the feel of a broken bond. But Spock took me back."

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, for a moment overcome by such a strong wave of love for Spock he couldn't speak. When he could, he looked straight at Sarek and said, "Spock loved me still, every bit as strongly as he did before we were separated, even though he thought me dead. Just as you will continue to love Amanda, even when time passes and you marry again."

"...Yes," Sarek said, looking curious.

"I sometimes wonder," Jim continued softly, "if we do something cruel to you, we humans who are lucky enough to be the recipients of a Vulcan's love. Your emotions are so strong and consuming, and even if we don't die prematurely, our lifespans are shorter than yours. I have to wonder if it's cruel of us to make you love us, knowing how long you'll have to live without us, loving us still."

"I would say," Sarek began, watching him evenly, "that I would not take back my love for Amanda, even after having lost her. And I believe your Spock would say the same."

Jim smiled wryly. "He would," he confirmed. "And he would tell me he chose this path, even knowing where it would lead, and he does not regret it."

"So I would say," Sarek agreed.

Jim took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Perhaps I should not have doubted that he would take me back after the Nexus, but I still consider myself so lucky he did."

"Lucky? Why did you doubt?"

Jim huffed out a small laugh, then quickly sobered. "He had married again, of course. I was grateful for that, or else I would have left the Nexus only to hear of Spock's death, and I'm not sure what I would have done then. But I was very grateful his wife agreed to step aside."

Sarek seized on the first part of Jim's statement. "He will then undergo pon farr?" he asked. "We had not been sure, given his human blood."

Jim nodded, feeling sorry for both Sarek and Spock. Sarek, too, would have to remarry. And while Jim had always enjoyed the actual experience of pon farr, and Spock had come to enjoy it with him, the Vulcans still hated it, and they had good reason. "Not for another nine years, assuming that won't change between universes -- though I don't know why it would, since it's a matter of biology, and Spock's first Time arrived later than a full-blood Vulcan's would. But yes. He will have to deal with it."

"His betrothed did not survive Vulcan's destruction," Sarek murmured.

Jim's face twisted. "T'Pring?" he asked. Sarek he had forgiven for his early treatment of Spock, but he never had managed that for T'Pring. He understood her wanting her own life, but she had set things up so either he would kill Spock or Spock would kill him and the survivor would have to live the rest of his life knowing he'd killed the other half of himself. If not for McCoy's intervention, that would have been Spock's reality. Jim knew she had her reasons, and he even sympathized with them. He still could not quite forgive her for her callous disregard of Spock.

Sarek nodded, eyeing Jim. Jim shook his head to dispel the anger, but his voice was still short when he said, "She claimed the kal-i-fee."

Sarek's eyes widened minutely. "None have claimed the kal-i-fee for over a thousand years!"

Jim shook his head again when Sarek would have continued. He didn't want to talk about it. "Will you allow him to find his next bondmate himself?" he asked. "I know it's the clan's responsibility to arrange bondings, but..."

"But you hope he will eventually find his bondmate in your younger self," Sarek said shrewdly. Jim nodded.

"I'm not going to interfere," he told Sarek. "But my bond with Spock is very important to me, and I would like them to find that themselves."

"Even though all Vulcans will be needed to help rebuild our race?"

"Spock doesn't have to marry a Vulcan woman to contribute," Jim pointed out. "And as for his physical presence, I'm pretty sure my Spock is going to want to help, so the two of us will be wherever the colony is established."

Sarek inclined his head thoughtfully. "This is important to you."

Jim sighed. "Spock and I are t'hy'la, in the ancient sense," he said. "My life would be so much poorer without him, and I know he would tell you the same thing."

"You mentioned not interfering. You would prefer I also keep the fact of your own bond secret?"

Jim nodded strongly. "My feelings for Spock...sometimes they scare me," he admitted. "They're so completely strong, so much a part of me -- I don't know what I'd be without him. When I think about it too hard, that does still scare me. But I think it's worth it. Having been t'hy'la to him for decades, I know it's worth it. But the younger Kirk and Spock -- they haven't had those decades. They would be terrified, maybe enough to run away -- my Spock attempted Kolinahr once because he feared his feelings for me, before he decided they were worth it."

Sarek bowed his head. "I will keep your confidence," he said. "The bond of t'hy'la is still respected on modern Vulcan. If my son has a chance to reach that bond, I will not prevent him."

Jim closed his eyes. "Thank you," he said, the words heartfelt.

There was still no guarantee the younger Kirk and Spock would find their way to the kind of relationship their elder counterparts had, especially not with Uhura in the picture. But they at least had a chance. That was enough for Jim.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten  
2372-2379 - Prime Universe**

 

Jim woke up the next morning knowing himself for a fool.

He remembered his anger of last night, and while he still wished Spock hadn't been quite so high-handed, he hadn't deserved Jim's fury. And even as angry as he'd been, and as annoyed as he still felt...it didn't matter.

God, he could be such an _idiot_.

Spock hadn't even come to bed last night. Their first day together in months, after their first weeks together in _decades_ , and Jim decided to pick a fight and make Spock feel unwelcome in his bed?

His anger wasn't worth Spock's pain. Neither was his pride. If he couldn't let his bondmate help him, he'd be a pretty sad excuse for a bondmate himself. Part of marriage was supporting each other in tough times.

He didn't even bother to get dressed as he left the bedroom in search of Spock, half-afraid Spock would have left the apartment and stayed elsewhere. But when he poked his head into Spock's meditation room, he found him kneeling on his mat, his eyes closed. Spock must have spent the night putting the room together before he started meditating, because Jim hadn't left it in any sort of order. The room was meant to be for Spock, and Jim hadn't felt right setting it up himself.

He lowered himself to kneel in front of Spock, knowing his knees would protest when he tried to get up later and not caring. He just looked at Spock, at the lines on his face and how calm was etched into them, but not peace. Their bond was quiet, as was usual when Spock meditated, but Jim could still see faint traces of troubles in the corners of Spock's eyes and the angle of his mouth.

He didn't want to disturb Spock, though, so he decided to meditate himself. It couldn't hurt, at least.

Meditation was not one of his favorite activities -- even as he aged, he hadn't liked sitting still that long. And while he had discipline enough -- when he cared to exercise it, he remembered, thinking ruefully of last night -- it was nothing to the kind of discipline and control a Vulcan learned. He could meditate, but it never came as easily to him as it did to Spock.

Meditation did have its uses, though. Spock, with his telepathy, had the ability to touch Jim's thoughts even with great distance between them, having once heard them all the way from Vulcan when Jim was on Earth. Jim, who was psi-null, couldn't do the same. The closest he could come during any separation was getting a sense of him during meditation.

But he hadn't even considered that, this time. He'd let himself get so wrapped up in missing Spock, and resenting his absence, he hadn't even thought of meditation.

And it could have given him greater benefit than just a deeper sense of Spock. The purpose of meditation was, after all, to center oneself, and Jim could admit he hadn't felt centered at all since leaving the Nexus. Meditation might have helped or it might not have, but he hadn't even tried.

Well, he would try now. He set his own hands in an approximation of Spock's, closed his eyes, and concentrated on breathing. He quickly got back into the rhythm of matching his mental energies to Spock's, and that helped. Even if he didn't usually meditate, he always enjoyed doing so with Spock.

By the time Spock's hand touched his, bringing him out of his trance, he'd lost track of how much time had passed. He wasn't sure about centered, but he at least had let go of the anger and even the annoyance, and certainly felt a lot calmer.

He opened his eyes to see Spock looking at him, keeping his own face and eyes impassive. Jim couldn't even get a sense of his thoughts through the bond.

"Do you feel better?" Spock asked quietly.

Jim nodded, taking in a deep breath and then letting it out slowly. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you," he said. Spock made a move to draw his hand back, but Jim caught the hand and held it. "Spock, I'm sorry. You were right. I was in pain, and I was avoiding it."

"I, too, am sorry. I knew you would likely be displeased at my attempts to help, but --"

Jim shook his head, interrupting him. "I was in pain, and I was lashing out," he said firmly. "And I seriously overreacted. You only brought up the possibility -- you weren't actually making any decisions for me. I was just..." He looked down at his hands, one still holding Spock's. Shame colored his cheeks a faint red. "I was just taking any excuse I could find to make myself be the injured party, I guess. I didn't want you to keep shoving my weaknesses in my face."

"That was not my intention," Spock said. He looked down before flicking his eyes back up to meet Jim's. "I merely wished to help."

"I know," Jim assured him. "And I appreciate it. I do. And I think you did, even if not exactly in the way you intended. The argument, and waking up without you when I could have been waking up with you -- it showed me that even if I had been the injured party, it wouldn't matter. I wasn't willing to let that come between us."

"Then you are willing to let me help?" Spock asked. His hand tightened around Jim's.

Jim let out another breath, and nodded. "I need some," he admitted. "As much as I don't like it, I haven't been handling things very well on my own. You just...know I don't like asking for things." He tried smiling, but was pretty sure it came out weak.

"I do know," Spock said tenderly, raising his other hand to brush across Jim's meld points, sending a sense of fondness. "And I admire you for your self-sufficiency, as much as it can at times be out of place."

"And this is one of those times, I suppose." Jim removed his hand from Spock's, but only so he could take hold of Spock's shoulders and use them to lever himself up. Spock sat still and steady as he did, and brushed his fingers against Jim's as Jim pulled away. Then he accepted the hand Jim held out to him and used it to stand himself.

Once they stood in front of each other, Jim stepped forward and brought his arms around Spock in a swift hug, resting his head on Spock's shoulder with a sigh of contentment as Spock's arms closed around him in return. They stood like that for several moments until Jim pulled away and gave him a more genuine smile.

"Well," he said. "What do you think about going to Berkeley for the day? It might be nice to check out the campus."

"Berkeley is indeed a beautiful area," Spock replied serenely. "I believe our day would be well spent there."

\--

Things got better for Jim after that. Not immediately and not totally, but he was determined to at least stop avoiding all the things he didn't want to think about.

One of the first things he did, after coming back from Berkeley, was to invite Scotty over. Scotty accepted with alacrity, and didn't try to hide his relief when Jim told him what was going on.

"I knew ye'd listen to Mr. Spock," Scotty said, sitting with the two of them after dinner with a glass of Glenlivet in his hand. "Advice from me you could always take or not, but I knew ye'd listen to Mr. Spock."

"I'm sorry, Scotty," Jim said again, toying with his own glass of brandy. He was getting tired of apologizing, but knew his friend deserved the apology. "I just wasn't in a very good place, I guess."

"Aye, I could see that," Scotty agreed. "An' I understood. It's not that easy, building up your entire life almost from scratch."

Jim nodded. "How did you do it?" he asked. "I should have asked you before, but I just wasn't thinking."

Scotty took a sip of his scotch. "Well, I can't say I handled it any better than you did at first," he replied. "And probably quite a bit worse. Young Geordi LaForge, he made it pretty clear that I couldn't be helpful as I was, so of course I had to do something to get meself up to speed. But it was hard." He raised his glass at Spock, who nodded back at him. "Mr. Spock, he was already on Romulus, but he did come to visit me a couple o' times. That helped, but, and no offense to you, Mr. Spock, it just wasn't enough."

"I apologize, Mr. Scott," Spock said. "I believe I was less of a friend than I might have been."

Scotty shook his head. "No, don't you be worrying about that," he replied. "You had your work, and I understood that, and never begrudged it. And while it would have been lovely to have a friend around more, you weren't really who I wanted."

Spock nodded. "I, too, miss Uhura," he agreed. "But I understand as well. I do not miss her the way I missed Jim when I thought him lost to me."

Jim put his brandy down on the table, reaching out to take Spock's hand. "I haven't been thinking as much as I should have about what the two of you went through when I was gone, and were going through when I was having trouble."

"It's hard to think of others when you're in pain," Scotty said philosophically. "I'm just glad you're doing better now, sir."

"And you, Scotty. How long did it take for you?"

"Well, it's actually still an ongoing process," Scotty admitted. "I have my good days and my bad days, though the good outnumber the bad by a goodly bit. It's helped having something else to concentrate on. Engine designs have come quite a long way, and even if I'm not still taking care of the _Enterprise_ , I do have plenty of things to keep me occupied and interested."

"That's still something I'm having trouble with," Jim said, shifting around on the couch. "You only had to catch yourself up in what was already your field. I can't go back to captaining a starship."

"What about getting a ship of your own?" Scotty asked. "Have you thought about that?"

Jim exchanged a look with Spock. "Somewhat," he replied. "It does sound pretty attractive -- all I've ever wanted to do was explore the universe. But Spock has his work, and I knew when I retired from Starfleet that I didn't want to do anything to keep me away from Spock. Continuing to travel would be wonderful, but losing that is a sacrifice I'm willing to make to stay with Spock."

Scotty smiled at him. "That sounds wonderful," he agreed warmly. "Not that it doesn't sound a bit strange to hear you willing to give up traveling the stars, but the people in your life matter. You sort of take them for granted until you lose them and only then do you think about how much they gave you."

"That's always how it is," Jim said, squeezing Spock's hand again. "Those years when I had both the _Enterprise_ and Spock were perfect. But if I had to choose, I'd choose Spock. Every time."

"For which I am gratified," Spock told him, stroking the back of Jim's hand with his thumb in a move conveying sincere affection. "I, too, will choose you, Jim." He caught Jim's gaze and held it, his eyes serious. "If you need me, I will be here, despite my work on Romulus."

Jim smiled at him, and stroked his hand back. "Thank you," he told him. "That means a lot to me. But I don't think it will be necessary. I'll find something to study at Berkeley and something to keep me busy, and I'll spend time with Scotty, and stay in contact with you and my friends on the _Enterprise_. I'll be fine."

"Of course you will," Scotty said heartily. "I'll make sure o' that, Mr. Spock, never you worry!"

"Were I inclined to worry, I would certainly be relieved," Spock replied, his tone very dry. Scotty laughed, recognizing the tease.

"So what have you been considering, Jim?" Scotty asked. "Any ideas on what you'd like to do?"

"Not really," Jim replied, smiling wryly. "That's part of what tripped me up before. I just couldn't think of anything I could do when what I'm best at isn't an option."

"Well," Scotty went on, "you may have made many an unreasonable demand on my engines, but you're not so bad in Engineering yourself. Have you thought about that? If you go into theory especially, it's a mobile career. There's enough holographic technology around now so you can model your designs anywhere, and with a pretty high degree of accuracy."

Jim chuckled -- of course that would be Scotty's suggestion. But he couldn't deny it bore thinking about. He knew enough about starship engineering, as any captain worth his salt had to, that he wouldn't be completely out of his depth in studying it further.

"You may have something there, Scotty," he answered slowly, and Scotty beamed into his scotch. "That's actually a really good idea."

"Aye, and maybe you'll learn a thing or two about what's reasonable and what's not!"

He gave Scotty his best innocent look. "I already know what's reasonable," he said. "Anything a captain needs."

Scotty snorted. "I think he might need a bit more help than he's willing to admit," he told Spock, who raised an eyebrow. "He's delusional, poor man."

"I think it unlikely any help will be efficacious," Spock mused. "I believe this trait to be a permanent flaw."

Jim just shook his head at both of them. "You think you're so funny," he said. "How many times have my 'unreasonable demands' saved our skins? No gratitude!"

"Yes, sir, Captain, sir!" Scotty saluted. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"That will be all, Mr. Scott," Jim replied, amused. And it was, because Scotty took his leave soon after.

But Jim revisited the topic later that night, as he and Spock prepared for bed.

"What do you think about Scotty's suggestion, Spock?" he asked as he slipped under the covers and turned to face the center. "Engineering?"

"It is an aptitude of yours," Spock replied, likewise settling on his side facing Jim. "And Mr. Scott is correct; engineering is a subject one might study anywhere. If you find yourself intrigued by the suggestion, there is no reason why you should not pursue it."

Jim sighed and moved closer until he could tangle his legs with Spock's. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "I'm just really going to miss the exploring. That's what I've wanted to do my entire life, and I don't like feeling too old for it."

"But you are not," Spock replied, reaching up to stroke along Jim's cheek. "You may be retired from Starfleet, but that does not mean you are too old to explore."

Jim nuzzled into the gentle hand for a moment before replying, "Okay, but how? We don't have a ship anymore, Spock. The only ships that do exploration, apart from some private ships, are Starfleet, and they don't take civilians who just want to see the galaxy."

"Unknown planets are not the only things we might explore," Spock told him. "How much of your own planet have you seen? How much of mine? As familiar as they feel to us, they too have new things to offer."

Jim grinned at him, letting his affection and gratitude emanate from him. "You know, that's right," he said. "I've rarely been out of North America, even, and I haven't seen much more than Shi'Kahr, your family's holdings, and Mount Seleya on Vulcan. I have always been interested in seeing more."

"Then we will do so," Spock replied. "Romulans, too, hold the marital bond in high honor. I do not believe I will lose ground for ensuring your happiness."

Jim felt a quick burst of exasperation at how much of a politician Spock had turned into, but he let it go. He was still Spock.

"Sounds like a plan," he affirmed, and yawned. "Computer, lights off."

He turned around as the lights blinked off and snuggled back into Spock, who slid an arm around him. Spooned together, they fell asleep.

\--

With those decisions in mind, Jim's life went on. The dreams about the Nexus dwindled over the months until he never got more than flashes of his life there, easily dismissed. He still sometimes missed the ease of life there, but those feelings quickly passed.

He did decide to apply for the doctoral program in starship engineering at Berkeley, which accepted him. And while the work was hard, especially since he'd missed out on decades of advancements specifically in that field, he did still have enough of a grounding that he could stay on track. He found Scotty's help invaluable as well.

It was not a passion. He never felt that knot of excitement in his belly he always would on sitting in the captain's chair on the bridge of his ship.

But even if studying engineering was not his first, best destiny, as Spock had once termed his captaincy, it was not a chore either. He enjoyed the challenge and details of the work, even if it didn't truly call to him.

He couldn't deny he missed the excitement, though -- more than that, the feeling of _rightness_ he got when aboard his ship. Doing something else grated on him when he still wanted to be out amongst the stars, going where no one had gone before. He hated being grounded.

But he put up with it for Spock. If the only way he could stay with Spock was to be grounded, he'd accept being grounded. Even when he chafed at the limitations and burned to see someplace new.

He and Spock put their plans for traveling into motion several months after their conversation about traversing their own planets, though the occasion wasn't as happy as the idea had originally made him.

"Having you and Scotty around is wonderful, but...I need to see everyone else," Jim sent in a message to Spock, who was back on Romulus. "I can see their biographies and their...their obituaries, but it doesn't feel real, still. I don't know if going to visit their graves will make it real, but I think I need to do this. But I want you there with me, so I'm going to wait until you come back."

By this time the Romulan Senate had finally agreed to give him a visa, but Jim decided to wait on joining Spock until he finished with his doctorate. The Romulans might allow him to live there, but he didn't think they'd be willing to let him study engineering -- or anything else involving their technology -- from them. He'd wait until he could get a lab of his own.

The message Spock sent back to him had been very supportive. He had visited the graves of his old friends before, but not in many years, and of course he would be willing to go with Jim. Scotty, too, said he'd visit at least Uhura's grave with them, though he thought he'd stay longer in Nairobi afterwards.

All four of them had been laid to rest in their original homes. Sulu was in San Francisco, though Jim had not yet been able to bring himself to visit him. Uhura was in Nairobi, still one of the largest cities in the United States of Africa. Chekov was in St. Petersburg, though as one of the former Commanders in Chief of Starfleet, he also had a memorial on the grounds of Starfleet Headquarters.

Bones was in Atlanta, which would be the last stop but one on this particular trip around the world. Jim knew he would want to spend some extra time with the closest of his old friends, and with the granddaughter who had invited Jim and Spock to stay with her in memory of her grandfather.

Visiting their graves was both easier and harder than he'd thought it would be. When Spock arrived, they visited Sulu almost immediately in the memorial plot for Starfleet officers north of San Francisco. But Jim looked at the headstone, at the bare renderings of dates and epitaph, and just didn't feel a sense of _Sulu_.

The headstone gave no indications of Sulu and his copious hobbies, his deft and steady hand on the helm, his loyalty and protective fierceness, his calm ability as a captain. It was just a marker.

He knew closure was a process, not something that happened with one event. He'd still hoped, though, the pain of their absences would start to ease with visiting their graves. Wasn't that the reason humans had memorials like this? For the living? The dead didn't need them.

They stayed longer in Nairobi and St. Petersburg, since Jim had never been to either. Scotty came with them to Kenya, and introduced them to Uhura's great-great-great-great-niece, Penda Uhura. She did not look extraordinarily like her aunt, but there was something in the look of her eyes and the set of her smile so like Nyota that for a moment Jim had to catch his breath.

She came with them to the cemetery, and sang a mourning song in Swahili. For them, Jim knew, because she had never even met her aunt. Or maybe she sang for herself as well. Jim knew family had been important to Uhura.

When they went to St. Petersburg, almost against his will Jim kept looking for all the things Chekov had insisted were "inwented in Russia." He didn't find any evidence, of course, but he knew he wouldn't. He could imagine Chekov's amusement at his reaction, though.

St. Petersburg was beautiful, elegant and graceful with an attractive sense of history. They went to visit the city center, which had some buildings dating back over six hundred years, despite the demolition that had gone on in Russia during the communist revolution in the early twentieth century. Jim had been to Vulcan, which had buildings of its own millennia old, and he knew there were buildings on Earth older than these by far, but these were the first he'd really seen.

The world went on, but it didn't always change that much. People usually found a way to preserve the things important to them. Jim carried that idea with him even to the cemetery where Chekov lay, and managed to find a measure of peace in it even as he shivered at the graveside.

Atlanta was the hardest, though, when they returned to North America. He'd been there before with Bones, and though he appreciated Spock's presence at his side, he found himself struggling as he walked along familiar streets and heard a familiar drawl all around him, in unfamiliar voices. He would never hear Bones's voice again, except in recordings and memories.

Bones's granddaughter, Leah Michaels, was many years older now than Jim himself, which was very disconcerting when he remembered her as a tiny thing sitting on his lap and calling him Uncle Jim. But she still smiled, called him Uncle Jim, and gave him a hug he returned. Her mother, Bones's daughter Joanna, was also gone now -- she'd died even before Bones had, and he had requested to be placed next to her.

They stayed the night with Leah, and the next day went to go see their dearest friend. Spock brought something with him he kept in his hand and hid from Jim, and Jim decided to let Spock be mysterious if he wanted.

McCoy's headstone was beneath a magnolia tree, and several leaves had fallen on the grass in front of it. As Jim stood there, staring at it, tracing the engraved letters with his eyes, Spock knelt down and brushed the fallen leaves away. Then, very carefully, he placed a glass full of liquid and a leaf down, making sure it was steady before he let go.

"Mint julep," he said, when he stood back up and caught Jim's eye. Jim looked at Spock, looked at the mint julep, and started laughing.

He kept laughing until tears leaked from his eyes and a lump in his throat choked the laughter down. He tried to breathe in, but could only manage hiccupping gasps. Then Spock touched him, the gesture and their bond conveying boundless sympathy and love, and Jim could no longer hold back the howl. He cut the sound the sound off almost as soon as it left him, but too late to regain control. Blindly he turned towards Spock, who caught him as the tears burst harshly from him.

Spock held him as he turned into a shaking, sobbing mess, slowing sinking down with Jim in his arms until he was seated cross-legged on the ground with Jim cradled in his lap. He put up with tears and mucus on his bare neck and did nothing but continue to stroke Jim's back and hair.

Finally the sobs died down into hitching breaths, and then they too died down until there was silence and Jim could hear faint birdsong off in the distance. He didn't particularly feel like moving, but he'd gotten Spock's neck and shoulder kind of disgusting, so he pulled back.

"I do not mind," Spock assured him, though he pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket.

Jim chuckled, still sort of wetly. "Planning ahead?" he asked, his voice hoarse and clogged. "So much for not minding."

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "While I had no objections to the process that put such fluids on my skin, I would prefer they not dry there," Spock said, in words so similar to what he said about other bodily fluids in other situations that Jim started laughing again, even as he wiped away at the combined mucus and tears from Spock's shoulder and his own face.

When he finished his cleaning, he put the used tissues back in the packet, for lack of anything better to do with them that wouldn't require getting up. That done, he cuddled back against Spock's shoulder, rested his forehead against his now-dry neck, and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure he precisely felt a catharsis of some sort, but he did feel a little better, though exhausted and somewhat shaky.

"Thank you for coming with me," he murmured into Spock's skin, and sighed as Spock's hands resumed petting his back and hair.

"I would be nowhere else, ashayam," Spock said quietly.

They stayed there until dark had nearly fallen, holding each other close and remembering their almost-brother.

They stopped last in Riverside, Iowa, where some of the descendents of Jim's nephew Peter still lived. It was strange to spend time with them, for them as well as him, but he appreciated it. He also took the opportunity to visit his parents, who had rested there since even before the Nexus had swallowed him. They reminded him the pain of loss really did ease over time.

Spock did not leave immediately after their return to San Francisco. He had timed the trip to coincide with pon farr, their first after their reunion. Pon farr gave Jim a turn to take care of Spock, which he appreciated, particularly after Spock had spent so much time this trip supporting Jim. Days after pon farr ended, though, Spock had to leave, and Jim started working again on his doctorate without further delay.

The next time Spock left Earth, Jim was determined to be ready to leave with him.

\--

One of the things that surprised Jim the most about living and working on Romulus was how he quickly gained a lab partner and a lab.

Turomek was a Romulan theoretical engineer who, far from being as xenophobic as Romulans typically were, found working with a non-Romulan interesting and intriguing. His only concession to the paranoia of the Romulan government was to make sure Jim had nothing around him related to cloaking technology. Otherwise, he was perfectly happy to have someone around to bounce ideas off of who thought so differently from the way he did.

Jim actually rather liked him, and he never thought he'd be able to say that about a Romulan. Respect, yes, but actual liking?

"Dr. Kirk, come here. Tell me what you think the result will be if we adjust matter/anti-matter levels around a core combined of dilithium and trilithium? If we could sustain the energy of a potential explosion indefinitely--"

"You think that might actually be possible? Trilithium's still not exactly stable," Jim pointed out. "And I don't think the dilithium will be enough of a stabilizing factor, not with anti-matter involved as well."

"You are being pessimistic!" Turomek cried. "Come, let us create a simulation."

Creating a simulation was Turomek's response to pretty much every idea he had, no matter how viable -- or unviable -- it was. Jim had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed even the ones that failed for the unique ways in which things would tend to explode.

Jim rather thought that would be how this simulation would turn out as well. He hid a sigh. He liked Turomek well enough, but he missed practical work.

Turomek's enthusiasm for someone different was far from the norm on Romulus, though. People tended to avoid him or sneer at him in the streets -- Spock, at least, blended in better, though enough people knew what he looked like that he sometimes got sneers as well.

And Jim couldn't say he enjoyed the way most of the senators spoke to him, a mix of condescending and antagonistic. Remaining diplomatic in the face of constant provocation was a chore, but Jim realized he was now a diplomat's husband, as strange as that seemed, and he didn't want to cause any trouble for Spock. He also didn't want to do anything to cause the government to rescind his visa.

But it wasn't all bad. He was one of the first free humans allowed on Romulus, which was historic enough for him to really appreciate. He spent much of his time in his lab with Turomek, who didn't care about his species, and almost the rest of his time with Spock.

Being with Spock was worth the sneers and slurs. Particularly when he could offer support to Spock as well, who was more likely to come home with tales of defeat than stories of victory. Something inside Jim glowed with pleasure and pride when he could be there for Spock, as Spock had been there for him.

Jim was lonely, with so few people willing to even talk to him. But he still communicated with Scotty and other friends off-planet, and he and Spock left fairly frequently themselves to visit Earth, Vulcan, and some of the other Federation planets he'd not been to often before.

After captaining a starship, his new sedentary life sometimes grated on him. Still, he put up with it for Spock, and had few regrets.

Life on Romulus could have been a lot better, but Jim was not going to complain.

\--

Jim stayed in contact with his friends on the _Enterprise_ -D over the years, even if he got to see them only rarely. When Deanna Troi and Will Riker announced their engagement, he was pleased to say he would come to their wedding -- the ceremony on Earth, at least. He thought he'd probably skip the one on Betazed. At approaching seventy, he wasn't sure he wanted to be naked in public.

Actually, the ceremony itself took place on the _Enterprise_ in orbit above Earth; only the reception was on the planet itself, in Riker's hometown of Valdez, Alaska, just at the foot of the Chugoch Mountains. Jim was happy with the chance to see the mountains, though Valdez was even colder than St. Petersburg.

The wedding reminded him of his own marriage to Spock, as weddings usually did, even though this one was human and his own had been on Vulcan, with all the Vulcan traditions. Even the tradition about the Vulcan male being in pon farr for it.

Spock's fever had come on him less than a year after V'Ger and his acceptance of the connection between them, so Jim hadn't had to wait very long. When Spock had felt its approach, he and Jim had simply requested and received vacation time from Starfleet, grabbed their closest friends, and traveled to Vulcan. Spock had initially been reluctant, obviously remembering the events of his first koon-ut-kal-i-fee, but Jim had convinced him. He'd wanted Spock to have his traditions, and he'd wanted the memories of their ceremony to replace the ones of their disastrous first trip to Vulcan. Sarek and Amanda had even made it, though Spock had been past caring until several days later.

Spock watched him throughout the reception, the soft look in his eyes indicating he, too, was remembering their bonding. His pon farr was due to return to him in another few months, though the ferocity of it had diminished as he aged. Jim thought they might go back to Vulcan for that, as they hadn't been since their first Time together.

He couldn't persuade Spock onto the dance floor, but he did manage to snag Troi away from her new husband for a dance.

"Congratulations, Deanna," he said as he spun her around. "I'm glad to see the two of you finally have things figured out."

"Thank you, Jim," she replied, smiling. "And we got there when we were ready."

"I know how that is," he agreed wryly. "The waiting could be very tiresome."

She laughed. "It did have its moments," she said, "but both of us needed time. And I think we're the stronger for knowing who we are and what we want."

"Oh, you certainly are," he replied. "There is certainly something to be said for building that kind of strong foundation before trying to add a serious romantic relationship on top of it." He turned his head slightly to look at Spock, and smiled to see him deep in conversation with Data, the android officer who would soon be Picard's second-in-command.

"There certainly is," Troi agreed, and when the song ended, she went back to Riker, accepting his arm around her waist and his quick kiss on her lips.

After the reception ended, Jim and Spock had intended to spend more time in the Alaska area despite the cold -- Jim had always wanted to see the Aurora Borealis, even though by this time he had seen far more dramatic lightshows in space. But when Spock heard about the events on Romulus and the ascension of the Reman Praetor Shinzon, he insisted on returning to Romulus early.

They ended up arriving only after Shinzon's subsequent death, but once he heard the entire story from both Picard and Commander Donatra, he wasn't sure if he was glad to have missed it, or sorry.

\--

They did return to Vulcan for Spock's next pon farr. They stayed at the family estates, which stood empty with Sarek's second human wife gone back to Earth not long after his death. Not that they saw much of the estates.

Pon farr had always been a special time to Jim, and part of that feeling had ended up transferring to Spock during their first Time together, assuaging his own fear of the fever. He just...always felt so _close_ to Spock during this time. Utterly cherished, even when Spock was sometimes rough -- he still always knew who Jim was, unlike the first time, when the two of them had fought and Spock's eyes had held no recognition that the man he choked the life from was his captain and his friend.

Since their bonding, however, pon farr had evolved into a time of absolute sharing. Jim gave himself until he didn't even feel like he and Spock were separate people. That sometimes scared him when he thought about it, but he never felt any fear in the moment. In the moment, there was nothing but Spock, and his need, and assuaging that need. He and Spock were so tightly bonded that while pon farr took a lot out of both of them, Spock's fever was as responsive to Jim as Jim was to Spock. While Jim would often be sore for days after the fever ended, their bond ensured that Spock never needed more than Jim could give.

Spock was also a lot more overtly affectionate during this time. Jim figured it was partly a control issue as well, but Spock would feed Jim, wash him, brush his hair, stroke along his skin until he felt as if his bones were melting. Half of Spock's vocabulary seemed to be endearments -- he constantly called Jim ashayam, k'diwa, t'hy'la, and talukh-veh. He would also call him James, the full name Spock almost never used except when feeling particularly passionate. It always made Jim's skin shiver and arousal pump through his blood to hear his full name issued in that smoky, deep voice.

The words ran through him mentally as well, claiming him there too. Vulcans were always telepaths, of course, but they seemed to rely on their telepathy more during this time. Pon farr at its root was partially about the complete joining of two people, and Jim certainly felt that with Spock. The corresponding emotions would rush through him at every endearment with the force of the tides, and it was all Jim could do to respond, to give his words and emotions back to Spock.

Spock was gentle, this time. Still utterly dominant, but he coaxed Jim's submission out of him, rather than demanding it, though Jim gave it as freely as he always had.

They stayed on Vulcan even after the pon farr ended, Jim happy to take the chance to see more of this planet, still so strange to him even after several visits. He loved looking up at the night sky and seeing different stars. Even the ones he recognized were in different configurations.

He never would have guessed, judging by his first visit, but Jim very much enjoyed his times on Vulcan.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven  
2258 - Reboot Universe**

 

The rest of their return to Earth went smoothly.

Jim continued to help Scotty in Engineering, though at that point he'd already boosted the impulse engines as much as he felt wise. Instead he spent most of his time helping to fix all the numerous problems that kept popping up as a result of the battle.

He checked in with Bones, who pronounced his ribs as healed as they were going to get, though he warned him bones grew more fragile with age and he should still be careful. Jim waved it off -- he was already about as careful as he would ever get. He wasn't going to stop living just because he'd gotten old.

He'd only managed brief, awkward conversations with Sulu and Chekov in the mess hall. They'd clearly heard the rumors about him and had no idea how to treat him. He didn't blame them for their uncertainty, as much as he missed the friends he knew.

Uhura would usually eye him speculatively whenever they crossed paths, though he never could guess her thoughts. She was quieter and more self-contained than the Uhura he'd known, and he hoped it was just the circumstances and her youth. His Uhura had never hesitated to display her joy in life, and though Jim had missed that before, he found he missed it even more now, faced with her counterpart. Hopefully she would grow into the cheerful steadiness of his own Uhura.

His further encounters with his own counterpart and Spock's were about as brief as the ones with Sulu and Chekov. Probably the longest conversation Jim had with the younger Kirk consisted of commiserating with him about reports, while another included his suggestion that Kirk challenge Spock to a game of chess. The younger Spock had made him another offer of a joint meditation session, but he didn't want Spock to get too attached to this version of him, so he diverted Spock by suggesting he ask his father.

Sarek had accepted. That had made Jim particularly happy, because he knew his own Spock had missed his meditation with his father. He was glad the younger one had the chance to rebuild their relationship.

So Jim spent his remaining time on the ship helping Scotty with the engines, talking to Pike and sometimes Sarek, and, with a sense of déjà vu, looking through the history of this universe after the _Kelvin_.

When they finally reached Earth, he held back to disembark with the Vulcans. The media were going crazy over the younger _Enterprise_ team, but even they respected the Vulcans' privacy. Jim slipped onto the planet with no questions asked about who he was.

Once at Starfleet Academy, he found two messages waiting. One informed him the Admiralty would like to see him the next day. The second said Spock was scheduled to arrive that night.

Jim decided against meeting him at the spaceport this time. People crowded the huge spaceport, reuniting with their loved ones from returning ships. The media maintained a large presence, which Jim didn't want to deal with. And he knew where Spock would meet him, and he didn't even have to leave the Academy grounds.

When Jim had been Chief of Starfleet Operations and Spock had taught classes, the two of them had not been able to meet for lunch every day, but they'd usually tried. There was a particular secluded garden in the Academy, more of an alcove off one of the bigger gardens. Spock said he'd enjoyed meditating there as a cadet, and so Jim and Spock had turned it into a meeting place for when they were both on Academy grounds.

Jim found the garden easily enough, though he'd had to dodge through halls of uniformed cadets and teachers who still had blank, stunned faces even two weeks after the initial threat and tragedy. Some familiar faces moved through the crowd, younger officers who'd served on the _Enterprise_ with him -- including Kevin Riley, Jim noticed with a shock. He should probably look up Tarsus IV to see if the famine had happened in this universe as well. He hoped it hadn't.

But if it had, he also needed to see if there was an Anton Karidian around.

He arrived at the garden early. No one had claimed it yet, and he gladly took the time to himself to just sit in peace. He'd occupied such a strange position on the ship that being there hadn't quite been as calming as he usually found being on a starship. He didn't quite meditate, but watching the sun set from the garden relaxed him.

Still, he felt when Spock arrived. He couldn't not. Even if he hadn't felt his approaching presence, he would have heard the soft tread on the grass, and took in the scent the slight breeze carried to him. He stood up from the bench where he'd been sitting, and, like their reunion sixteen years ago, didn't say a word as Spock took him into his arms.

Jim just closed his eyes and buried his nose in Spock's neck, Spock's hands coming up to twine in his hair and rub up and down his back. Partly the gesture served to comfort him, Jim knew, but mostly it served to comfort Spock, whose thoughts across the bond consisted of variations of _hereheresafeJimhereminemineJimsafehere_.

Finally Spock pulled back enough so they could rest their foreheads against each other. One of Spock's hands remained buried in Jim's hair while the other came up to cup his cheek and brush across his meld points.

"I am gratified to see you safe," he finally whispered, so low Jim barely caught the words.

"And you," Jim replied tenderly. One of Jim's hands rested on the back of Spock's neck, playing with the short hairs there, the other propped on Spock's hip.

Eventually Spock pulled away entirely. As he drew back, he caught hold of Jim's hand. "This is not the place," he said. "Do you have accommodations for the night?"

Jim nodded. "Starfleet gave rooms to all the civilians on the _Enterprise_. I only looked in on mine, but it's standard guest quarters. There's room enough for two."

Spock nodded back and straightened, pulling his hand away so he could tuck them both behind his back. Jim started walking when Spock did, barely taking the lead. If they walked too close together, that was all anyone who watched them would notice.

Spock just sat down heavily on the bed when the door of their room hissed shut behind them. He seemed to be staring at the wall, and barely blinked when Jim turned down the covers. Jim had the computer turn the temperature up another five degrees -- he was slightly chilly, and knew Spock would be worse, though Jim wasn't sure the Vulcan could actually feel the temperature yet. Or at least, properly register it and notice it as uncomfortable.

When greater warmth filled the room, Jim started stripping. Though Jim's motions caught Spock's attention, he only started staring at Jim instead of the wall. Completely naked, Jim pulled on Spock's hands until he stood up, and then Jim methodically undressed him as well. Spock cooperated, but he didn't help, not until he too was naked and following Jim into bed.

The sheets were cool against their bare skin, but Jim drew the covers up over them and wrapped his arms around Spock, tangling their legs together. Their hips pressed flush against each other, flaccid genitals nestling together. It wasn't an erotic moment, though, and Jim knew he wouldn't be hardening tonight. Spock certainly wasn't in the mood, and he didn't think he could summon it either, as glad as he was to see Spock again.

Spock's arms closed around Jim, almost too tightly to be comfortable, but Jim was fine, particularly now his ribs had healed. Spock pulled Jim's face into the crook of his neck, and Jim shifted until he could stay there and still breathe all right. Eventually Spock's arms loosened, but only slightly.

Jim was not at his most comfortable, but he felt comfortable enough, and he had no desire to move. Spock kept his thoughts uncomplicated -- a deliberate focusing on the physicality of Jim in his arms, the feel of Jim's skin, the sound of his breathing, the scent of him. Jim just closed his eyes and wriggled closer. Spock's hand started stroking his hair, and finally he fell asleep to the feel of Spock's heart thrumming against his side and his hand petting Jim's hair.

\--

When he woke up early the next morning, the gray light of dawn casting the room in light colors, Spock had already awoken. Jim wasn't sure if he'd even slept. He hoped so -- he didn't like the idea of Spock lying awake, even with Jim in his arms the reminder they were still alive and together.

Spock still lay in bed, though, an unusual occurrence when he'd already woken. Jim touched his face and Spock raised his hand to brush Jim's fingers, but they didn't have time for more than that because Jim really needed to relieve himself. While in the bathroom, he took the time to brush his teeth as well.

When Jim came out, Spock was _still_ in bed, so Jim joined him again. They didn't have anything to do until 1400, when the Admiralty had requested to see them.

Before Jim settled in, though, Spock had grabbed him and pulled him over Spock's body like a living blanket. Jim blinked in surprise, but he was not unhappy with his new position.

Spock kissed him then, and Jim was glad he'd taken the time to brush his teeth -- Spock would put up with morning breath, but he didn't like it. Their tongues twisted around each other, Spock's stroking his until he moaned into Spock's mouth. Jim tried to breathe in through his nose, but eventually that wasn't enough and he had to pull away to breathe.

"Oh, Jim," Spock murmured, running his hands across what felt like every inch of skin Jim had, just as Jim's were him. "Ashayam, I was so worried."

Jim kissed Spock on his neck, tongue licking out across his pulse point. "I'm fine," he said into Spock's skin, but he knew Spock could hear him. "I'm fine, and our counterparts are fine, and Earth is fine."

"But Vulcan is not."

At those words, the erotic urgency that had begun to build dissipated, and Jim slowed his exploration until it conveyed more comfort than lust.

"It is not your fault, you hear me?" Jim said fiercely, lifting his face until he could look into Spock's eyes. Spock closed his.

"I know that. I do know that, ashayam. But it is no easier to be blamed for genocide when one knows it was not one's fault. It is even less so when such blame results in yet more genocide, and that he would have revenged himself on me by killing you. I do not know what I would have done had I lost you as well as Vulcan, Jim."

Jim kept up his slow stroking, and leaned down to kiss Spock's closed eyelids. "You would have rebuilt," he said. "You're very strong, my heart. But isn't it illogical to speculate on what might have been? It didn't happen. Let it go."

Spock opened his eyes and gave him a familiar fondly exasperated look. "As you yourself know, that is more difficult than it sounds."

Jim nodded. It was. "This is our universe now," he said. The red matter had all imploded, and even if it hadn't, coming back in time had been an accident. They didn't know how to direct time travel on purpose. "We're going to have to learn to live in it, even with everything Nero's done. You'll feel better when you're with the rest of the survivors, helping them rebuild."

"It is decided, then?" Spock asked dryly.

Jim kissed him on the tip of his nose, feeling an almost unbearable wave of love at Spock finding some remnant of his sense of humor. "It is," he replied in his most commanding tone. Then he relaxed enough to say, "I _do_ know you well enough to predict what you would want to do. What else would you decide? You can't go back to Romulus -- you have no name here, no credentials, and it's too uncertain after Nero. And the Vulcans will need you -- you have more experience actually managing your emotions than most of them, rather than repressing them, and I think they'll need that."

"I believe you are correct," Spock said, relaxing slightly. Jim understood. Planning something useful to do could make a big difference in how one thought of the future.

"However," Spock continued, rolling them over suddenly so he was propped up on top of Jim, "I believe in the meantime, I feel the need to reconnect with my bondmate, who was so nearly taken from me."

Jim had no objections. After digging out the lube he'd replicated from the _Enterprise_ , he willingly let Spock pull him back into his arms and into a kiss.

Alexander the Great had once been said to have been ruled by Hephaestion's thighs. Jim wasn't quite that bad, but he did sincerely enjoy the position Spock drew him into. The entire time, he felt like he was cradling Spock, holding him safe.

Afterwards, feeling sated and drained, he cleaned up, then rejoined Spock on the bed and moved easily into his arms again. Spock never even commented on the illogic of staying in bed past the time to rise, so Jim knew he got just as much out of the contact as Jim did.

They couldn't spend the day in bed, as they had when they were younger. For one thing, they did have the meeting with the Admiralty in the afternoon. But simply holding each other was still wonderful in its own right, and Jim soaked it in, cataloguing this moment with the thousands of others that gave him his core of peace deep inside.

\--

They managed to get themselves up and ready long before their appointment, and spent the time familiarizing themselves with the Starfleet Headquarters of this era. The array of buildings hadn't changed significantly in a hundred-some years, but it had changed enough for exploring to be actually useful. There was no longer a building named after Jim on the Academy campus, which was strange but also somehow relaxing -- he'd always been uncomfortable about it before.

Finally the time for their meeting arrived. When they reached the interview room, they found three of Starfleet's most illustrious admirals waiting for them.

"Admiral Barnett, Admiral Komack, Admiral Nogura," Jim greeted, though Spock contented himself with inclining his head and presenting his hand in the ta'al. Barnett and Nogura returned the hand gesture. Komack attempted it, but gave up when his fingers wouldn't part properly.

What gave Jim a sharp feeling of smug pleasure, though, was that all three admirals looked off balance at being addressed by name by someone who seemed to be a stranger. Jim couldn't help but feel this interview was going to be a battle, and he wanted every advantage he could get.

"Good afternoon," Barnett said, gesturing them towards seats. He glanced down at his padd, though Jim was sure he didn't need it to remind him of anything. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us." Not that it had exactly been an invitation. "We've been told the two of you are from the same universe and time period as Captain Nero?"

"That is correct," Spock replied serenely, and Jim nodded.

"And you are, in fact, James Kirk and Spock of Vulcan from the other universe?" Barnett looked dubious of the idea.

"Yes, Admiral," Jim replied, and further offered, "Retired Captains Kirk and Spock. He is now Ambassador Spock, but I would still prefer to be addressed as Captain."

Jim smirked inwardly at the glances the three of them exchanged. He had no idea what they had planned for his younger counterpart, but he wanted to be sure they acknowledged at least one James Kirk had earned the right to that title.

"Of course, Captain Kirk, Ambassador Spock," Barnett said. He seemed to be the spokesperson, though if Jim recalled correctly, Nogura was Commander in Chief at the moment. Barnett continued, "Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"That was our assumption," Spock answered. "Would you prefer first to hear a recitation of our story?"

"We would appreciate it," Barnett replied.

Jim let Spock tell the story -- he'd explained it enough times over the past weeks, and he was tired of hearing it. Instead, he kept his gaze on the faces of the three admirals.

Komack's face displayed open skepticism, but Jim had expected that from him. He was one of the more conservative voices within Starfleet, and Jim had never exactly gotten along very well with him, even after his own promotion.

Barnett was listening and withholding judgment for now. Jim had seen that intense stare before, and seen it turn seasoned Starfleet officers into stammering cadets -- just as they'd been when Barnett had presided over their tenure at the Academy, since he was the Superintendent of it. Spock, of course, kept his composure with aplomb.

Nogura he couldn't read at all, but that didn't surprise him. Commander in Chief of Starfleet was an intensely political position, and no one who couldn't keep his thoughts behind his eyes would be allowed to hold the rank.

Spock began the story by giving brief descriptions of their own careers in Starfleet, including Jim's promotion to admiral and his later return to the rank of captain -- Jim was amused to note, though, that Spock didn't mention his court martial or the reason he'd been demoted beyond a mention of the Federation President's praise of his ability in that role. He gave a brief mention of the Nexus, to explain how Jim had survived to Nero's time, and then he launched into the story about the Hobus star and the red matter and their appearance in this universe.

Silence filled the room after Spock finished speaking, though Nogura did get up and go to the room's replicator to get a glass of water and give it to Spock, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

"Remarkable story," Komack said, with undertones of its perhaps being _too_ remarkable.

"Even so," Spock agreed blandly.

Barnett shook his head. "You are sure that the red matter, the _Narada_ , and your own ship are gone?" he asked. "Completely destroyed?"

"Completely," Jim answered firmly. "The _Jellyfish_ impacted with the _Narada_ , and the _Narada_ was utterly consumed by the red matter, which imploded. There is nothing more from our universe here in this one except the two of us."

"Hmmm."

"If I might ask," Jim said politely, "have you decided what's to be done with my counterpart yet?"

Barnett fastened him with that intense gaze, but Jim simply met his eyes. "What do you mean, Captain?" he asked.

Jim caught himself just before he shrugged. He was trying to be formal here. "I understand he was in the middle of a disciplinary hearing, and now he's commanded the ship that saved Earth. And he is a younger version of me. I'm sure you understand if I'm curious."

Barnett eyed him. "Commander Spock has dropped the charges against him," he said slowly. "As for the rest, we have not yet come to a decision."

"In fact," Nogura spoke up, "we wondered if this might be something we could discuss with the two of you. You must admit you have unique insight."

"Though it will, of course, be our decision," Komack warned them. "We agreed to listen to what you have to say, but the decision will lie with us."

Jim and Spock exchanged a look. "Of course, Admirals," Jim agreed. "What did you want to ask us?"

"You must understand," Nogura said, leaning forward in his chair, "that Starfleet is in turmoil. We lost nearly an entire class of cadets, as well as seven of our newest and most advanced starships. That's not even mentioning the effects of losing Vulcan."

"Furthermore," Barnett continued, "Captain Pike is in no condition to resume command of the _Enterprise_. His ordeal on board the _Narada_ has left him currently paralyzed from the waist down. That might be fixed in time, or it might not. But we cannot leave the _Enterprise_ without a captain."

Nogura nodded. "Already people throughout the Federation and even beyond our borders know what the _Enterprise_ accomplished, and under whose command she did it. Despite our desire for Captain Pike to resume his duties aboard the _Enterprise_ , which he sincerely earned, we cannot leave what is not only the flagship, but what has become a symbol of the Federation, in drydock until Captain Pike recovers."

Jim could read between the lines, and shook his head slightly in disbelief. "Are you suggesting putting my younger counterpart in as captain? That is what you're hinting at, isn't it?"

"Do you believe yourself incapable of it?" Komack asked, with a raised eyebrow.

His eyebrow was nothing on Spock's, though. "The situation is unprecedented," Spock replied, raising an eyebrow back. "Despite the confidence we both have in young Kirk's abilities, Captain Kirk is surprised you're even considering the idea."

Jim nodded. "Field promotions are one thing, but I've never heard of someone's rank rising so astronomically. I was young when I was commissioned as captain of the _Enterprise_ , but I was thirty-one, not twenty-five, and I'd still had ten years to properly climb the ranks."

"Unprecedented or not," Nogura informed them, "young and inexperienced or not, James Kirk's name has become known throughout the Federation. We can't ignore that."

"But nor is it a guarantee," Komack cautioned. "When the possibility was brought up after his initial debriefing soon after the battle with the _Narada_ and Dr. McCoy informed us of Captain Pike's condition, plenty of us did not want to place that burden on an inexperienced cadet, who will inevitably flounder."

God, Komack. "He did not when faced with the _Narada_ ," Jim pointed out. "He even kept up with the less exciting duties on our return to Earth."

"Furthermore," Spock added, "James Kirk is the kind of person who excels under pressure. He constantly and consistently faces and overcomes challenges that would make most other officers falter."

Jim watched as the three admirals exchanged glances at Spock's praise. They were probably disconcerted, like everyone else. They had probably counted on Spock being "the voice of reason" -- Komack certainly had, and was now watching Spock like an unknown element that could potentially explode.

Hah, Jim thought, amused. Good luck getting Spock to say anything negative about him, particularly in public. He'd once told a court martial hearing that Jim's honor and cool head in a crisis were things akin to _gravity_.

"Then it is your recommendation the young Kirk keep his field promotion?" Barnett asked.

Jim crossed his arms and legs and leaned back in his chair. "Do I think he can handle it?" Jim said. "Yes, I actually do. As important as experience is, it is something anyone can gain, and at least he has enough for both him and you to know he can stay calm and in control during a crisis. The rest -- Admirals, I assume you'll be sending the _Enterprise_ out on deep space exploration? Out there, he'll encounter things no one has seen before and no one knows how to deal with. Experience would help him, but so would creativity, and he has enough of the latter to do just fine until he gains more of the former."

"And you, Ambassador?" Nogura asked. His face was impassive, but he watched Spock intently.

"I would not have sent him back to the _Enterprise_ to take command from my younger self if I did not believe wholeheartedly in his abilities," was Spock's reply.

"Even above those of your younger self?" Komack asked.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "It has never been my desire to take command," he said. "I am competent at it, and have grown more so under the tutelage of Captain Kirk, but I lack the innate talent for it that he has."

Jim shook his head, shooting Spock a fond look. "Spock has the potential to be a very good commander," Jim told the admirals, "and I have always known that, or I would never have made him my first officer. But he _does_ need experience -- experience in understanding humans, which are still the vast majority of those enlisted in Starfleet. My younger self, more than Spock's, has an edge in a greater understanding of his crew, and that might make more of a difference than experience on a ship."

Spock nodded in agreement. "Given their current capabilities," he said, "I would determine that James Kirk, rather than my younger self, is better equipped to take command of a starship and thrive in that position."

After a moment, Barnett nodded. "We thank you for your advice," he said, dismissing them, "and we will certainly take it under consideration when we make our decision."

Jim and Spock both inclined their heads and rose to leave.

They ended up spending the rest of the day wandering San Francisco, re-familiarizing themselves with the city as well. They walked along Fisherman's Wharf, still preserved after centuries, and ended up eating dinner at a vegetarian Betazoid restaurant in the off-planet market and restaurant area that had grown up near Chinatown.

Jim took a shower that night before he went to bed. When he returned to the bedroom, Spock only brushed his hand, but Jim could tell he still needed physical comfort. They'd not had sex more than once in a day for a long time -- they still loved being physically close to each other, but did not feel the need to translate that into sexual activity as often -- but Jim understood. Sex was life-affirming. He could do with some affirmation as well.

This time Spock took charge very quickly, which Jim had always found ridiculously sexy. He was gentle but purposeful, slowly stripping the clothes from Jim's body and his own and easing them back until he lay on top of Jim on the bed.

His hands wandered almost aimlessly, but wherever his fingers passed he left a trail of slow-burning heat that seemed to sink into Jim's skin and stay there. Soon Jim was writhing, trying to get Spock to touch him in more sensitive areas, but Spock only shook his head and continued on.

He stroked two fingers from Jim's temple to his chin, but did not initiate a meld. He passed his hands down Jim's chest and sides, but did not touch his nipples. He caressed the creases of the joining of Jim's legs and pelvis, but avoided his cock. He had Jim turn over, and ran his hands down Jim's back and buttocks, but did not dip between his cheeks. Then he added his mouth, and started kissing all over Jim's skin.

Jim felt a slowly drugging engulfment of pleasure, something he found strangely as relaxing as it was enticing. Even the urge to beg for more subsided. His cock was not yet fully awake, and he could wait until Spock was ready.

Spock was claiming him utterly, taking ownership of what felt like every part of him. Jim's skin tingled in his wake as if trying to call him back, and whenever Spock returned to a previously-loved spot, something in Jim seemed to settle with contentment even as he felt the need for more. His hips began to thrust into the sheets, seeking more friction for his hardening cock, but Spock's hands came to rest on his hips to hold them still.

Jim whined, some of the pleasant languor dissipating. "Spock," he said, his voice getting low and graveled. "Please, Spock."

"Patience, talukh-veh," Spock replied, his voice also low and rough enough that a shiver passed over Jim's entire body in reaction. "I will take care of you."

Jim tried to roll over again so he could look at Spock, so he could reach out and touch him, but Spock wouldn't let him. "Patience," he repeated. He kissed the very top of Jim's buttocks, his tongue darting out to taste the skin there, and then he pulled back slightly and blew on the wet spot. Jim's entire body jerked.

"Yes, that's it," Spock murmured, lowering his face to nuzzle at Jim's cheeks. "You will give me all of you. Everything."

"Yours," Jim groaned out, even as Spock drew him up from his prone position on the bed to his hands and knees. "Already yours. Always yours."

"Yes, you are. My James," Spock agreed, then parted his cheeks and leaned in to lick at him. Spock's tongue, just slightly rougher than a human's, swiped up and down his perineum, then moved up again to jab at his opening.

Jim found himself gasping fervent pleas, as he always did when Spock indulged in this act. His body went pliant and his mind blank, immersed in pleasure. He had no idea what he was saying, but it made Spock smile against his skin even as he traced the rim of Jim's entrance.

Finally he moved back and started kissing his way along Jim's vertebrae as one of his long, slender fingers, slick with lube, replaced his tongue inside Jim. Jim squeezed his eyes tighter shut as Spock's pleasure began to transmit even more strongly across their bond -- Spock loved fingering him. He loved the rimming for its intimacy and how Jim enjoyed it, but he _really_ loved fingering Jim.

By the time Spock had four fingers inside him and was mouthing at the skin of his shoulder, Jim's cock was fully hard and he felt like a mass of nothing but pure need. With every drawn-out moment of Spock stroking inside him, filling him almost perfect but not quite, not enough, Jim felt himself coiling tighter and tighter.

Finally the coiled pleasure reached almost an edge of pain, and that was when Spock removed his fingers. Jim barely had time to feel empty before Spock's cock nudged at his opening and then slipped inside. As Spock moved forward and filled him, Jim felt something inside him relax utterly, though tension still tightened the muscles of his body.

He did not even have to think about it to push back to meet Spock's thrusts, and he didn't. He felt the physicality of their bodies moving together, but Spock consumed his attention in his mind, adoring him there as well. Then Spock's hand was on his face and they flowed together until they were simply one whole, complete being.

Despite the extended foreplay, when climax came, it was not explosive. It felt more like freefall, but knowing there was safety at the end, because what they fell toward was an utter union of being. And when they reached it, they lingered there together for uncountable moments.

Eventually Jim stirred and opened his eyes to find himself collapsed face-down on the bed, Spock heavy on top of him. Jim had only barely felt his weight when Spock rolled off of him, and Jim took a moment to mourn the separation. But as he turned his head to meet Spock's eyes, he smiled languidly. The separation was an illusion. Spock may not be physically inside him at the moment, but he was always there.

Jim shifted to a more comfortable position, but continued to lie on his stomach as Spock's weight left the bed entirely and then returned moments later. Jim muttered protests when Spock urged him to his back, but the gentle cleansing on his stomach and between his legs and buttocks was soothing.

Spock joined him again when he finished, spooning behind him and wrapping an arm around him, his hand spread out to cover Jim's belly. He still felt totally claimed by Spock, which he knew had been Spock's need and was part of the source of the satisfaction emanating from his husband. Jim took those feelings and brought them with him when sleep dragged him down, and his dreams were full of Spock as well.

\--

A few weeks later, Jim sought out his younger counterpart for a long-delayed walk.

The younger Kirk had indeed been given command of the _Enterprise_ , though Starfleet had not yet held the investiture ceremony. They intended to hold it jointly with an award ceremony and were waiting on Pike's release from Starfleet Medical. Pike was still paralyzed from the waist down, and so the Admiralty had decided to promote him to admiral. Jim wished him luck -- he would probably need it, since Jim had gathered he enjoyed a desk job about as much as Jim did.

He found his younger self in his quarters, a small dorm room shared with Bones. Kirk pored over crew profiles and manifests, his eyes reddened from being rubbed and his hair wild, as if he'd absently drawn his hand through it a few too many times. "C'mon, kid," Jim said, tugging him out of his chair against his protests. "Let's take a walk."

He and the younger Kirk never really had gotten their chance for a stroll around the _Enterprise_. Jim figured this was as good a time as any.

They needed Kirk's authorization to get Jim on board, which Jim found amusing. The ship was full mostly of mechanics and engineers at this point, focused on fixing her up as soon as possible so the Federation's flagship and symbol could get out there and do some good. Jim dodged them with the ease of much practice, and Kirk followed in his wake.

"Were you this terrified at the beginning of your commission?" Kirk asked after they'd been walking in silence for several minutes.

Jim glanced at him. He didn't look terrified, despite the red eyes and barely-tamed hair, but he'd always been pretty good at controlling himself when he cared to. "Petrified," he replied. "I wasn't as young as you are, but I was pretty young. I had some experience, but it never felt like enough. I dealt with it, though, just as you will."

They paced slowly through the corridors, Kirk's attention mainly on Jim. Jim nodded his head at the walls. "Pay attention to her," he said. "To the _Enterprise_. You need to know this ship, kid. You need to know it better than you know your own face." He'd been going to say _your mother's face_ , but decided to change it on remembering what he'd heard about this Kirk and his mother.

"So that's why we're here?" Kirk asked. "For you to give me advice?" But he looked more closely at where they were going and what they passed.

Jim shrugged. "If that's what you want," he replied. "I just wanted to see her again, and I thought it would do you some good too."

"I...would like some advice," Kirk said. "I don't feel ready for this."

Jim nodded. "You will," he assured him. "Or if nothing else, you'll fake it 'til you make it. I happen to know you're very good at bluffing."

Kirk smiled. "It is one of my talents," he agreed.

"There isn't too much I want to tell you, though," Jim warned. " _You_ have to make this work. We're different people, and you need to find your own way into whatever style works best for you."

"But some things can still apply to me, right?"

"Right. And one of the most important is that the captain sets the tone for his ship. The crew is going to emulate you, whether or not you really want them to." He gave Kirk a hard look. "You don't have to be deadly serious all the time, but you do have to set a good example."

Kirk looked a little abashed, but also determined. Good.

"You also need to remember you are nothing without your crew," Jim continued. "A captain can't run this ship on his own. You need them just as much as they need you -- and more, in the beginning, while you establish yourself. Pay attention to them. Respect them. Learn who they are, as much as you can. Someone will always fight harder for a leader he feels cares for him than he will for a leader who doesn't know he exists. And they'll make doing your duty easier as well -- just as they can make it so much harder if they don't respect you. Given your circumstances, you're going to have to work pretty hard to ensure you do gain their respect."

"I can do that," Kirk said.

This would have been advice Kirk had learned in his command classes, but as Jim knew from experience, advice from class always took on a greater importance when you were about to put it to use. Kirk should find it particularly applicable, given the circumstances of his promotion -- how he related to his crew could make or break his captaincy.

Jim smiled at him. "Yes, you can," he agreed.

He debated warning Kirk off sleeping with his crew, because he'd heard plenty about the trail of lovers Kirk had left in his wake at the Academy -- more than Jim, who had usually preferred long-term relationships. But he decided against it. Whatever he said could backfire on him if this universe's Kirk and Spock did fall in love. And besides, hopefully Kirk would understand about not sleeping with his crew just from the first two pieces of advice Jim had given him.

"Everything else is up to you," Jim finally said. "You'll make your captaincy your own, just as you'll make this ship your own. You can always call me for advice, but I think you'll do fine."

Kirk drummed up a smile, but Jim could see the uneasiness in it. "I might take you up on that," he replied. "Are you going to be staying on Earth?"

Jim shook his head. "I'm going with Spock to the new Vulcan colony, whenever it's settled," he explained. "It would be too strange to stay on Earth, and I'd be by myself. Spock is all I have left now, and I can do some good on the colony."

Jim didn't mention, of course, that he had no desire to be separated from his husband just because they'd fallen into a new universe now. But Kirk looked satisfied with his explanation, no hint of suspicion, so it didn't matter.

They ended up spending several hours on the ship, wandering all over and discussing their childhoods. They'd both had different trials, and while Jim's had made him more serious, the younger Kirk's had made him more rebellious. But they weren't so different, really. Jim thought he understood a lot of what Kirk didn't say, and the same was probably true for Kirk about Jim.

Spock was already on the bridge when Jim and Kirk arrived, seated at the science station and looking at his computer console. Jim remembered all the times his Spock, in their early years, had remained on the ship to oversee repairs, and he hid a smile as his younger self strode over to speak to Spock. Spock turned around in his chair, looking up at Kirk in a posture so familiar Jim caught his breath.

He had some time to recover from the déjà vu when Kirk moved away, meandering slowly from station to station, studying their configurations. Jim stood near the center and placed a hand on the back of the captain's chair. His chair, but not his chair -- and yet, still James Kirk's chair.

That was as it should be.

Eventually Kirk stopped in front of the viewscreen, a curved floor-to-ceiling window with a magnificent view of the spread of stars outside. They were in spacedock, so the stars appeared stationary, but Jim watched as Kirk leaned against the transparent aluminum and stared out at them. He probably didn't even realize what a longing look he had on his face.

Jim turned away and briefly caught Spock's eye. Spock tilted his head, then smoothly stood up and joined Kirk at the window. Jim could hear the soft buzz of words between them, but not what they said.

He was struck instead by the picture they made, angled just slightly towards each other against a backdrop of stars.

Kirk and Spock, on the bridge of the _Enterprise_ again.

This may have been a whole new universe, but it was not as different as it could be. Already there was something it had gotten exactly right.


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve  
2387 - Prime Universe**

 

"Jim, wake up."

Jim blinked his eyes open to see Spock standing there, not only already dressed but feeling like he'd been awake for hours -- and not for a good reason.

"What happened?" Jim asked, sitting up.

"The Hobus star is preparing to go supernova. A massive stellar flare yesterday obliterated one of the planets in its system."

Jim shook his head and rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs out of bed. "You tell me the significance while I get my coffee," he said, pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt and shuffling out into the kitchen. "Because stars go supernova and destroys their planets all the time. This one wasn't inhabited, was it?"

"No, but it was full of decalithium deposits."

Jim stopped cold. "You're sure?" he demanded.

Decalithium was an isotope the Romulans had discovered; one of its properties was to convert mass into energy. Jim hadn't been allowed to work with decalithium, but he had been allowed to study simulations of it for possible uses in engineering. He had not yet found any safe ones.

If a star going supernova was infused with decalithium, the resultant explosion could be catastrophic for more than just the planets in its system.

"A mining ship had made certain before sensing the stellar flare. They are sure." Spock had already prepared his coffee the way he liked it, and handed the steaming cup to him.

"Hobus star...where is it? How close?" Jim asked, in between sips. His brain was starting to wake up properly, but he didn't even really need the coffee to realize how bad this had the potential to be.

"Close enough to be a threat to the Romulan Empire," Spock told him grimly. "I go now to the Senate to argue that steps be taken, but I wanted to be certain you were aware."

"Thanks," Jim said, already making plans. "I need to ask Turomek what he knows about decalithium, and see what kind of simulations we can cook up. And I should probably start packing up our stuff, shouldn't I?"

Spock confirmed the idea with a short nod. "I do not know if the senators will believe in the danger, but I do. I want us prepared to evacuate, along with whoever we can convince."

"I'm on it," Jim said, pressing a quick kiss to Spock's mouth. He drained his coffee quickly before going back into the bedroom to get dressed properly. When he was appropriately dressed by Romulan standards, he asked, "Do you have a plan to deal with the supernova itself?"

Spock's mouth twisted wryly. "Not one the Senate will like," he replied. "The Vulcans have recently been experimenting with what they are calling red matter, which is a product of decalithium. I believe red matter injected into the supernova will be able to counteract the explosion, but the technology only exists on Vulcan. You and I and other non-Romulans may be able to live here freely, but I expect Romulan isolationist tendencies to speak loudest today."

"Still, you have to try," Jim said firmly. "You never know. They might be reasonable."

Spock nodded. "Captain Nero, of the mining vessel _Narada_ , will also be speaking in the Senate today. Perhaps the voice of a native and an expert will sway the Senate."

"You have to try," Jim repeated. "And I'll see what I can do. They might listen to Turomek and me if our simulations can back your theories up."

Spock kissed him again, and Jim smiled at him. "Good luck," he said, and turned away. He had plenty of work to do today, if he intended to help Spock convince the Senate of their danger.

\--

Jim sent Spock a file on his padd containing the results of his simulation -- one depicting Romulus and Remus being consumed by a decalithium-powered supernova. He and Turomek had run the simulation several times, both with and without the presence of decalithium. Without that substance, the Hobus supernova would be no threat -- but with decalithium in the mix, the Hobus supernova had the potential to be an even bigger threat than he thought Spock knew.

But when Spock came home that night, he bore discouraging news. The Senate had not only declined Spock's proposal, they had decided no interference would be made at all. They intended to do nothing about a threat that could possibly destroy them utterly.

"The Senate and the Praetor are the highest authority," Spock said. "I have no power to even ask for evacuation. We could be deported if I were to act on my own."

"Well, we do have some time left," Jim reminded him. "You keep working on the Senate, and Turomek and I will see how much we can learn."

They continued like that for weeks, though Spock made little progress with the senators. Spock had taken to spending his evenings on the roof, where they had a telescope. As soon as darkness fell, Spock was on the roof, looking at the supernova through the telescope. He'd hurry through his dinner to go back to studying Jim's simulations and calculations, and making more of his own.

One night he told Jim that Captain Nero, the Romulan in command of the mining ship that had first encountered the Hobus star, had asked to see them. When Nero arrived, Spock greeted him respectfully, and Jim did the same.

"Ambassador Spock," Nero said, coming in enough for Spock to close the door behind him. He looked at Jim. "Dr. Kirk."

The greetings finished, he stood in the foyer looking jittery, until finally Spock suggested, "Why don't we go up to the roof? The night is clear."

The roof was one of Jim's favorite places to spend an evening, before Spock and his palpable anxiety took over. They had set up a comfortable sofa there with a table, so he and Spock would sometimes eat their evening meal there. Jim especially loved the telescope, for moments when his homesickness overcame him. As much as he missed the stars, seeing them close up was better than nothing.

Spock brought with him a carafe of a Romulan drink similar to coffee and enough glasses for them. Once they were out under the open air, Nero seemed to settle. He took a seat at Spock's gesture, and a glass when Spock poured him a drink.

"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Ambassador," Nero said. "I know how busy you must be." He looked at Jim. "And you, Dr. Kirk. I understand you've been creating simulations to determine the danger the supernova poses."

"It is the least I could do after you came to my defense in the Senate," Spock replied.

Jim nodded. "This isn't good for anyone," he agreed.

Nero took a sip, and so did Jim. After a moment, Spock continued, "Whatever time I have, I spend studying the supernova, and that time is running out."

Nero put his glass down on the table. "That's why I came to see you," he said. "The Senate won't do anything. After all your years here working for peace, they still don't trust you."

Jim watched Spock's face, but Spock gave no indication their distrust pained him. Well, he wouldn't. But his side of the bond was quiet as well. Jim wondered for a moment if the Romulans would have trusted Spock more had he remained married to Saavik, and if he had never left Romulus to indulge Jim in seeing more of the Federation with him.

But there was no way to know, so Jim let the thought go.

"But I do," Nero went on. "I offer you my services. My ship. My crew. We can mine the decalithium for you. There is a small deposit in the Kimben system, at the farthest edge of the Empire."

"Doing so would be a direct violation of the Senate's order. If you are caught, you will be sentenced to life on a prison planet," Spock pointed out. "You would never see your family again."

Nero took his glass again and rested it in his hands. He leaned forward, saying, "But if I do nothing, I lose them all the same. This is not a decision I make lightly. After my wife, there is nothing I love more than the Empire, and I will do anything to save it."

Jim and Spock exchanged a glance, and Jim tilted his head just slightly at the telescope behind them. Spock nodded with just as slight a motion.

"I'm beginning to believe you," Spock told him, setting his glass down. "Let me show you something."

He stood and indicated the telescope as Nero joined him. "I've been watching the supernova growing for weeks," he said, moving aside so Nero could step up to the eyepiece. "Look."

Nero bent and looked. "My God," slipped out of his lips, and Jim knew what he saw. He'd been looking at it himself, when Spock would let him. The star loomed large through the telescope, pulsing and throbbing an angry red.

"It's hungry, Nero," Spock said. "And every moment that passes it grows hungrier still." He paused. "If we are going to do this, we must leave _now_."

Nero pulled back and looked at Spock. "My ship is repaired and ready," he said. "I just need to round up my crew. Thank you, Ambassador." He looked at Jim. "Dr. Kirk."

"Thank _you_ , Nero," Jim replied, and Spock nodded.

"Thank you for your trust," Spock agreed.

Nero just nodded at him and, when they saw him to the front door, slipped out of the house without another word.

And that was it. The end of their life on Romulus.

Even if they saved the planet, they would never be allowed back. Jim wasn't sure if he was sorry or not. He hadn't loved it, and even after much of the past fourteen or so years spent here, he didn't consider it home, but he had lived here.

"Come on," he said, when Spock stood there staring at the stars through the window. "We're probably never coming back. We have to pack up anything we're not willing to lose."

Spock closed his eyes and inclined his head. How difficult would this be for him, Jim wondered. Making a lasting peace with the Romulans had been Spock's work for twenty years. Jim could feel the conflict in him, but he also felt the resolve.

Finally Spock moved, heading to the bedroom. Jim followed him. They could leave plenty of things behind, but he still had enough things he wanted to keep and not enough time to properly pack.

They would have to be quick. According to his simulations, they did not have a lot of time.

\--

The _Narada_ left Romulus with no issues, Jim and Spock on board. Nero watched the planet on the viewscreen, and kept staring at it even after they passed warp and all he could see was stars streaking by.

He invited Jim and Spock into his ready room and poured them glasses of water from a pitcher on his desk. "Please forgive my ignorance," Nero said to Spock, leaning back in his chair, "but are you the Federation or the Vulcan Ambassador to Romulus?"

"I am the Federation Ambassador," Spock replied, taking a sip of his water. "Sular represents Vulcan."

"Sular...I've never heard of him," Nero said.

Jim snorted, and Nero looked at him. "Sular doesn't advertise himself much," he explained. He rarely even spent time with Spock, the only other Vulcan on the entire planet. "Probably how the Vulcan High Council prefers it."

Spock nodded. "That is another thing Vulcans have in common with Romulans," he said. "A tendency towards insularity."

"Interesting," Nero responded, looking thoughtful. "The average Romulan would probably guess you were the Vulcan Ambassador. You are certainly the most famous Vulcan."

"Half-Vulcan," Spock corrected.

"Noted. But if you're the _Federation_ Ambassador, which half is that? Just the human?" Nero watched him from behind his glass of water.

"I sometimes wonder myself," Spock replied, with some amusement. "It is not an easy line to see. I know the Vulcans would never have chosen me for that very reason."

"So many shifting allegiances," Nero said, pouring himself more water. "Which makes me wonder...I made a rash decision, offering to help you. But how do I know I can trust you?"

"Would you like to meld with my mind?" Spock offered. "I could show you what I truly believe."

Jim sat back and watched as Nero drained his glass and proclaimed himself ready. Spock fit his hand against Nero's face and told him, "Try to relax. Keep breathing...and open your mind."

Jim watched them, but less than a minute later Nero pulled away -- mind melds could distort time in strange ways, feeling very long inside one's head while in reality taking almost no time at all. Jim had even caught an image of a pregnant Romulan woman -- probably Nero's wife, he imagined -- though their bond was always dampened when Spock engaged in a meld with someone else. Nero must have been thinking about her very strongly for Jim to have caught the image as well.

Nero wrenched himself away and ended up on his hands and knees, breathing hard. "I'm sorry, Ambassador," he said between breaths. "May we continue some other time?"

"Of course, Captain," Spock agreed, though he didn't offer to help Nero up. Nero was the kind who would want to stand on his own. "Of course."

As Nero returned to the bridge, Spock went back to stand at Jim's side. _He believes me,_ Spock's voice said within their bond, _but he still worries, in a way I do not find reassuring. This mission is of vital importance, and its failure would be catastrophic, but there is something within Nero...I do not know how to identify it. I do not know what he would do should we fail._

 _Then let's make sure we don't fail,_ Jim replied, sending him a mental caress of reassurance and confidence. _And we'll keep an eye on Nero._

 _Yes,_ Spock said, as the two of them remained in Nero's ready room for now. They would be of no use during the mining operations, and would be better off thinking of ways to persuade the Vulcan High Council. Though they allowed Spock and him access to the planet, they had always been dubious about Spock's work with the Romulans.

They returned to the bridge when the _Narada_ reached the Kimben system. The crew was about half-way through their mining of the decalithium when alarms on the bridge went off and three Reman ships warped into view.

Nero ordered their shields up, but the Remans had already warped onto the bridge. They immediately started taking hold of the crew, and Jim fumbled for a phaser he didn't have. Nero placed his body between Jim and Spock and the Remans and demanded to know what they were doing.

The Remans wouldn't answer, and the miners had only just started fighting back when the ship started shaking. Out the viewscreen, they could see a ship attacking the Reman vessels -- a very familiar ship.

"That's a Federation ship!" Nero breathed.

"Not just any ship," Spock replied as Jim started grinning, "and not just any captain. That's an old friend."

The Federation ship hailed them, and Nero ordered it on screen. The bridge of the _Enterprise_ appeared, Data in the center. "Attention Reman ships," he said. "This is Captain Data of the U.S.S. _Enterprise_. You will cease hostilities at once."

Data beamed away the Remans' weapons, and then he beamed onto the _Narada_ himself with two other officers Jim didn't recognize.

"I didn't realize you activated the beacon," Jim whispered to Spock as Data appeared. Spock just looked smug, then stepped forward to greet Data.

"Captain Data! What a pleasant surprise," he greeted, taking Data's hand once the Remans had all been subdued.

"It is good to see you as well, Ambassador, Dr. Kirk," Data replied. "We came as soon as we picked up your identification beacon. We have disabled the Reman ships and are holding them in tractor lock."

Spock nodded, then turned to Nero. "Captain Nero, meet Captain Data of the Federation starship _Enterprise_. He is an old and dear ally of mine."

Nero looked incredulous. "Captain? But...he's a _machine._ "

"An android, to be precise," Data said. "The pleasure is mine, Captain. Pardon my unannounced visit to your ship, but circumstances dictated a quick response."

"And we're still in a hurry," Jim interjected. "We need the rest of that decalithium."

Ayel discovered the Reman attack had damaged the drill enough for them to be unable to mine more decalithium, but Data pointed out there was some in the holds of the Reman ships. It would be well within his rights for the _Enterprise_ to confiscate it. Nero quickly agreed.

The _Enterprise_ further offered to help the _Narada_ with repairs and an escort to Vulcan, and after a moment, Nero accepted that as well. He even accepted the invitation for him to travel on board the _Enterprise_ , leaving Ayel in charge of his ship during their journey through Federation space.

Jim and Spock, too, accepted the invitation to travel on the _Enterprise_ , and after the obligatory tour, dinner, and entertainment, Nero asked to be escorted to his quarters so he could rest. Jim and Spock initially went to their own, but later that night, Data requested to see them in his ready room. Jim had only just gotten to sleep, and he grumbled a little, but he figured he could take a nap the next day.

God, naps. He hated getting old.

"Thank you for joining me at this late hour," Data said when they arrived.

"Not at all," Spock replied. "It is always nice to meet with an old friend."

They'd last seen Data almost four years ago, just after Picard had retired from Starfleet and Data had been commissioned as the _Enterprise_ 's captain. Before that, they'd only seen him once after his "death" during the Shinzon affair and later "resurrection" with the successful implantation of his neural nets onto B-4, another android created by Dr. Noonian Soong.

He and Spock actually liked to joke, in a strange Vulcan-and-android way, about their unique experiences with death and resurrection. Jim usually just left them to it.

"Something tells me," Spock said, "that you disturbed our sleep for a reason."

"Indeed," Data replied. "I received a Starfleet command communiqué regarding the Hobus phenomenon." A benign way of putting it, Jim thought caustically. "The Federation has authorized a covert operation to the Hobus system to drill directly into the star to prevent it from going nova."

"A covert operation into Romulan space?" Spock looked disturbed, and Jim was too. The Romulans were not likely to be pleased if they caught the Federation in their space, no matter their intentions.

This would make an already complicated situation even more so.

That was all Data wanted to tell them, but it was enough. Jim and Spock went back to bed, but Jim knew he stayed awake for longer than he liked, and he was pretty sure Spock did too.

\--

When they arrived at Vulcan, there was a minor snag. The Vulcan Security Forces didn't want to allow the Romulans onto their planet, despite the urgency of their mission and their peaceful intentions. The Vulcans were even demonstrably unhappy with Spock for bringing them. Finally the Vulcans let them pass.

The praetor of the Vulcan Senate met them once they arrived, but though he offered the traditional words of greeting and the ta'al to Data and to Jim, he didn't acknowledge Nero at all, and was short with Spock.

They were actually unhappy Spock wanted to make peace with the Romulans. They hadn't acted like this last time Spock and he landed on Vulcan -- though maybe because Spock hadn't had a ship of Romulans in tow.

Well, Jim didn't have any patience with that. "Have you forgotten Surak's principles?" he asked mildly, what he knew was a big insult to a Vulcan. That drew the praetor's attention.

"Please explain yourself, Dr. Kirk."

"'Offer them peace, then you will have peace,'" Jim quoted, one of the phrases every Vulcan learned as a child. Surak's teachings on peace and nonviolence were part of the foundation of their culture. "'He talks peace if it is the only way to live.' 'Reach out to others courteously.' 'The spear in the other's heart is the spear in your own.'" He finished with, "'We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of both of us.' Spock has been acting in accordance with Surak's principles. Have you?"

Sometimes Jim thought Vulcans cared more about stubbornness and tradition than they did about logic. This was one of those times, because the praetor and his guards just stared at him.

Then a new voice said, "Indeed. Ambassador Spock has been acting as an ambassador and a Vulcan should. That is why I requested that the Romulans be allowed to land." Picard, now the Federation Ambassador to Vulcan, walked into view, taking first Spock's hand and then Jim's. "It's good to see you, my old friends."

"And you, my friend," Spock replied warmly. "We have not seen you since your investiture; it has been too long. Many thanks for your assistance. We come on a mission of utmost importance."

"As your communications made clear," Picard replied. He turned to Data and clapped him on the shoulder. "Captain Data! I hope you're taking good care of our ship?"

" _My_ ship, Ambassador," Data replied. "Indeed."

"And you must be Mr. Nero," Picard said, finally turning to Nero. "Kirk and Spock speak very highly of you."

"It's an honor, Ambassador," Nero responded, shaking Picard's hand. "I read of your distinguished record in the _Enterprise_ 's archives."

Picard had arranged a meeting for them with the Vulcan Science Council, and Jim went as well. He still had the disk with all of his simulations, though he wasn't sure how high his hopes were of the Vulcans actually listening and realizing the danger. Their welcome to the planet had not been auspicious.

Jim's hopes, and his opinions of the Vulcans currently in power, plummeted further on their meeting with the science council.

"You present a compelling case, Ambassador Spock, Dr. Kirk, Captain Nero," the high councilor said. "We have been studying the impending supernova as well, from our safer vantage."

"With respect, High Councilor," Spock replied, "it is my belief that no vantage will remain safe from this danger for long. It threatens the entire _galaxy_."

"I have been studying the effects of decalithium on the supernova," Jim added. "It's going to act as a mass-to-energy transfer. Once the star goes supernova, the more it eats, the greater its power will become. It's not going to stay in the Hobus system, or even just the Romulan Empire."

"Perhaps," the high councilor told them. "And perhaps it will burn itself out well before then. If we help you, we will be giving the Romulans knowledge of our most secret experiments with red matter manipulation. The chances of that knowledge being abused by a militaristic culture are not inconsequential."

"And that is the choice the Council faces. Whether to hold fast to old prejudices, old fears," Spock said, "or to honor the better side of our nature with the intent of saving us all."

The high councilor's face remained blank and impassive. "Very well, Ambassador. The Council will now recess to make a final decision."

\--

But it turned out the Vulcans did value their stubbornness more than logic. They refused to help.

"I _knew_ it!" Nero shouted, his face twisted in fury. "We've been wasting our time, Spock! We never should have waited for the Council to help -- we should have just taken what we need!"

"It is not that simple, Nero--" Spock began.

"It is that simple," Nero interrupted him. "You're starting to sound like the politicians that have done everything to stop us! The time for talk is over!"

"There's more, Nero," added Picard, who had brought news of the Council's decision. "The star is increasingly unstable. The Romulan Senate has issued an evacuation order for the planet. Federation ships are en route to help, but time grows short."

"Enough," Nero said, cutting through the words with a wave of his hand. "I'm leaving _now._ I'm going back to my wife and child before it's too late!"

"Nero, wait!" Spock said, reaching out. His hand dropped when Nero turned to face him again. "There's still a chance. Leave the decalithium with us. We will do whatever we must to see the plan through."

Nero gave him a long, considering look. "Very well," he agreed eventually. "You can keep the decalithium. Do your best." His eyes turned hard. "But I warn you, Spock...if Romulus dies, I will hold _your_ people responsible."

He turned away, and Jim watched him leave, feeling strange. He too was angry at the Council's decision, but he could see both sides. Like Spock said, it really wasn't as simple as just taking the red matter -- but though the jab about politicians had been aimed at Spock, Jim had felt it keenly.

He had once been a man of action. When Sarek had warned him about leaving Spock's body on Genesis, he had asked permission to go back -- but when he hadn't been granted it, he simply took the _Enterprise_. Spock's soul had been worth too much to him for him to take any chances. Like Nero, Jim would have been willing to spend the rest of his life on a prison planet if Spock was safe.

Jim looked at Picard, Data, and Spock. "He's right," he said flatly. "We can't do nothing, no matter what the Council decided."

Spock came forward and took his hand. It was the human gesture of support, not the Vulcan ozh'esta, but still a mark of how emotional Spock felt that he was willing to hold hands in public.

"We will not," Spock replied firmly. He looked at Picard. "We will remain on Vulcan for the time being. I do not think it likely the Council give us access to their red matter experiments, but we will do whatever we can."

Picard nodded, and then Data informed them, "And I will return to the _Enterprise_. We will continue to monitor the Hobus star."

"Now we just have to pray we're not too late," Picard said, casting his eyes up into the sky, looking towards Romulan space.

\--

Days later, Picard had Jim and Spock at his residence, which was laid out as a traditional Vulcan dwelling. It even had the firepit in the middle of what humans would consider the living room.

"Are you really prepared to go through with this, Spock?" Picard asked. "Even if we manage to convert the decalithium to red matter, delivering it is a suicide mission."

Jim glared at Spock -- they'd spent half the day yesterday arguing about this. But Spock told Picard what he'd told Jim.

"Have we any other choice?" Spock looked down into the unlit firepit. "My path was set the moment I learned of the threat from the Hobus star. I knew that as hard as I might try...as hard as I _have_ tried all these years...even the threat of mutual destruction might not be enough to ensure their cooperation. I do what I must."

The computer console nearby beeped with an incoming message. Picard ordered it played, and Data's holographic image appeared before them.

"Ambassador Spock, Ambassador Picard, Dr. Kirk," the image said. " _Enterprise_ has received a priority one message from Starfleet Command. The Hobus star has gone nova."

Not long after that communiqué, they received confirmation the supernova destroyed Romulus and Remus as well. Jim hoped Nero had gotten his wife away, but he couldn't help clenching both hands into fists.

They might have been able to stop it. Jim knew could-have-beens were useless, and only made people feel worse. Still, it was hard not to wonder what might have happened.

They might have been able to save Romulus, Spock's home for twenty years and his for nearly as long -- and the home of the race Spock had been working so hard to reconcile with his own.

Jim looked at Spock's face, as still as if it had been carved from stone, and wondered what this would do to Spock.

\--

The Vulcan Science Council saw the logic of their position when the supernova destroyed Romulus and showed no sign of stopping. The decalithium-powered supernova acted exactly as Jim predicted it would and continued to reach more and more systems.

Now the Council could see the danger to Vulcan itself, they were willing to act. Jim could sympathize heartily with Nero's impatience with politicians.

Not long after they agreed to process their decalithium into red matter to stop the supernova, the _Jellyfish_ , the ship that would carry the red matter to the supernova, and its pilot arrived. The _Jellyfish_ was aptly named, Jim decided when he saw it -- a wide rounded cone of a body and what looked rather like tentacles orbiting the engine.

Jim, Spock, Picard, and Data met the _Jellyfish_ as it docked. As its pilot walked down the ramp, Picard called, "Greetings, Mr. LaForge!"

"Got here as soon as I could!" Geordi LaForge called. "Just wish it was under better circumstances, but it's good to see you all!"

Picard took Geordi's hand and shoulder in his hands, and Data said, "And you as well, Geordi." Jim and Spock held back from the meeting between former crew -- they knew the bonds that formed there.

"Thought I'd left all the adventure back in Starfleet when I took off to design my own ships," Geordi said. "I've been itching for a new challenge. So let's get to work!"

Spock led them to the science council's main laboratories, and to the classified one holding the red matter. The five of them looked at it for a moment, floating in its airless tube.

"Red matter. A simple name for a most dangerous technology," Spock mused, gazing at it. "Derived from decalithium, it is inherently unstable."

"Sounds like the _Jellyfish_ is just the ship to hold it," Geordi replied confidently.

"A single drop of red matter will be fired from the _Jellyfish_ into the heart of the Hobus star," Data said, holding up a smaller tube carrying just such a drop. "The resulting explosion will create a unique singularity that will absorb the energy unleashed by the supernova. Together with the Vulcans, we have run every possible scenario under which the threat could be neutralized. This is the only plan with any chance of success."

Jim nodded in agreement -- he'd been the one running many of those simulations. It had given him a new appreciation for Turomek's fondness for them.

He wondered if Turomek had gotten off Romulus.

But he didn't need to follow that kind of thought. He had to focus now, because he knew the look in Spock's eye. Spock would not be satisfied sitting on the sidelines for this one.

"A unique singularity, huh?" Geordi said, taking the tube from Data and looking at it himself. Jim wondered what he could see with his technologically-enhanced eyes. "You mean a homemade black hole."

He sounded half-admiring and half-incredulous. Jim knew the feeling.

"Precisely," Data confirmed. He took the red matter back from Geordi and held it close and protected in his sure hands.

Just that single drop, if let free, would be enough to consume all of Vulcan if Data's hands were to slip.

\--

Jim waited until they got back to Spock's family holdings that night before he began the conversation he knew they had to have.

"You want to do it yourself, don't you," he said, once they had settled in bed. Jim propped himself up on one elbow to look at Spock. "Geordi volunteered to fly the _Jellyfish_ , but you want to do it."

Spock closed his eyes and didn't look at Jim. "Mr. LaForge is a young man, with many years ahead of him."

"And we aren't," Jim said. His hands traced Spock's form in the dim light. "But Spock, our lives aren't over yet."

Now Spock turned to face him, his eyes open and locked on Jim's. "So would you consign _young_ Mr. LaForge to what is almost certainly a suicide mission?" he asked fiercely. "Jim, I understand that you wish to protect me, but this is not an instance in which you can change my mind. I must do this."

" _We_ must, you mean," Jim replied, scooting forward and taking one of Spock's hands. "Because there's no way you're doing that without me."

Spock didn't argue. He knew what it would do to Jim to let him do the mission alone, particularly if it ended as they both thought it would.

"I understand, though." Jim rubbed his thumb across the back of Spock's hand. "You worked so hard for Romulus, and now you feel like all of that work has been for nothing."

"It has," Spock said gruffly. "Romulus is gone. Nero surely blames Vulcan, as he said he would. I have accomplished nothing."

"So your career's over," Jim reproved him affectionately. "That doesn't mean your life is. Isn't that what you told me once? I think you could do more than a famous last stand..."

Spock shook his head. "Jim, I _cannot_ \--"

Jim pressed a finger against his lips. "Hey, I understand. Who more than I would understand? But we'll be together, Spock, and that's what's important. It's been my lifeline, you know."

"I do know." Spock's voice was as tender as his eyes. "Jim...my James...I am always grateful for your presence and commitment. Your love and companionship are worth far more than a career to me. I simply--"

"Simply nothing," Jim interrupted, moving closer and wrapping him in his arms. "Focus on what you still can do, right?"

"Sage advice," Spock murmured. Jim smiled, and brushed a kiss against his forehead.

"We'll stop the supernova, the two of us. Just like old times, huh? I never did want to die in my sleep."

Spock closed his eyes again, and when he opened them, Jim could see the swirling mixture of gratitude and pain. "Jim--" he began, but fell silent.

"It's okay," Jim said, leaning forward to brush a quick kiss against his lips. "It's okay."

They ordered the lights off and prepared for sleep, but Spock's arms closed around Jim and tightened, drawing Jim closer and closer until Jim wondered if Spock hoped he could make them one person through sheer physical proximity.

But Jim didn't mind. He just held Spock back, closed his eyes, and tried his best to fall asleep.

Whatever happened, they would be together. That was all that mattered.

\--

"You had something we needed to see, Ambassador?" Jim asked as Picard welcomed them into his quarters.

Picard nodded as they sat down, then activated a hand-held hologram. It showed...bodies floating in space. "Members of the Romulan High Council," Picard explained. "They were found floating in space near the last known location of the Federation evacuation group that we sent to Romulus. Along with the body of the praetor, stabbed through the heart. No sign of their vessel, and no trace of the Federation ships. It's as if they simply disappeared."

Spock's expression didn't change. "Nero."

"Possibly," Picard said as he shut the hologram off. He put it down and curled on hand over the other, propping his elbows up on his legs. "In the past few days, there have been reports of more ships vanishing close to Romulan space. Federation. Cardassian. Even Klingon."

"But the _Narada_ was a simple mining ship," Jim protested, but he narrowed his eyes. The same thought occurred to Picard.

"Indeed," Picard agreed. "Unless he found new allies." Picard got up to grab some steaming tea from the robot who brought it in. "When he left here, he all but threatened to return to Vulcan for retribution should Romulus be destroyed. You knew Nero better than I, but there was something about him that made me inclined to believe what he said."

Spock only nodded in confirmation. He too had noticed Nero's determination -- had noticed it, and its darker side, during the mind meld Nero had agreed to. "Which means," Spock said heavily, "that we must depart in the _Jellyfish_ even sooner than anticipated."

" _You_ in the _Jellyfish_?" Picard looked between then two of them. "I thought Geordi had volunteered."

"I convinced him otherwise," Spock replied. "It is potentially a one-way trip, as you might say. And he is still a young man." Spock stood up, and Jim stood up with him, taking his hand. This was Spock's decision. Despite the hard choice he'd made, it was Spock's decision, and Jim would support it.

Spock squeezed Jim's hand and continued, "It was I who first warned of the danger from the Hobus star. It was I who convinced Nero to help me try to stop it. And it was I who failed to predict when the star would go nova. I was there at the beginning and I must be there at the end. I only pray that Nero does not carry out his threat."

"I understand," Picard said. "And I know there is no point trying to convince him otherwise. Jim, you agree?"

Jim nodded. "It has to be done," Jim said grimly. "We're as qualified for it as anyone, and better than many. And I feel -- I feel like I've had sixteen extra years. They were wonderful, but now the bill has come due. And Spock and I...we're no strangers to danger."

Picard looked grave, but he nodded. "As for Nero, if he is planning to see through on his plans, I've made arrangements to see he does not get the chance. General Worf of the Klingon Empire is looking forward to meeting him."

\--

"All modifications to the _Jellyfish_ are complete, Spock, Jim. She's all yours now," Geordi said as they stood outside the ship in the heat of the Vulcan day. Jim actually appreciated it, even as he sweated and had to regularly take tri-ox. He felt almost as if he would shiver himself to pieces if the heat weren't so oppressive.

Like he'd told Picard, he and Spock were no strangers to danger. They were even accustomed to danger with a small chance of coming back alive. But usually they faced it on short notice. This was drawn out, giving him time to actually think about what would probably happen.

But he took a deep breath and settled himself yet again. He didn't want to die, and he didn't want Spock to die, but if they had to, this was probably the best way. Doing something meaningful and important, and together.

"The controls are encrypted," Geordi continued, "with a voice activation lock that will respond to you two and you two alone. Even if someone wanted to steal it, they couldn't."

"Many thanks, Commander LaForge," Spock replied, just gazing up at the _Jellyfish_. "Your work exceeds even your legendary reputations as an engineer."

"There are reports that the Klingon fleet has engaged Nero's ship at the borders of the Empire," Data reported.

"Good old Worf," said Geordi.

Picard turned to Jim and Spock. "If Nero _is_ on his way to Vulcan, now would be the best time for you to depart on your mission."

"Ambassador Picard and I have determined that the wisest course of action is for the _Enterprise_ to assist General Worf in his battle with Nero," Data informed them. "We will all reconvene once you have neutralized the Hobus threat."

"I appreciate your optimism," Spock replied wryly. He didn't expect to reconvene. "But I fear Nero will not stop looking for retribution even if I succeed."

"Leave Nero to us," Picard said decisively.

"Remember, at heart Nero is a good man," Spock said, from his bottomless well of compassion. Jim, too, could sympathize with Nero's pain, though not with his subsequent actions. "What drives him now is an incalculable pain. Perhaps we may yet save him from himself." He looked off into the unshaped rock rises of Vulcan wilderness. "We will leave for the Hobus star this evening. And if our paths should not cross again, my friends, I know that we leave this galaxy in the most capable hands."

Picard, Data, and Geordi then left on the _Enterprise_ for the neutral zone between Klingon and Romulan space, where they hoped to meet with Worf. Jim and Spock were, of course, bound for the supernova.

"To our ships at sea," Jim murmured, watching the _Enterprise_ turn away and go to warp. He wished it luck.

\--

They approached the supernova. Jim concentrated on flying the ship while Spock readied the red matter and narrated his final ship's log, which would hopefully be left behind on a log buoy when the supernova was neutralized.

"This is the final flight of the _Jellyfish_ ," Spock's voice intoned. "In my discussion with Ambassador Picard, I overestimated our chances for survival. It will be impossible to escape the pull of the singularity we hope to create. This broadcast may never be received, but in the event that it is, please deliver it to the Science Academy on Vulcan that it may be included in the Archives."

As Jim got as close as he dared, Spock ejected the red matter. Together they watched it spin toward the supernova -- and impact.

"The red matter containment and delivery systems worked perfectly," Spock continued. He joined Jim at the helm and reached down to take his hand. "All we can do is watch, and wait."

The center of the supernova darkened, and right in front of their eyes, funneled into a black hole. The growing singularity had a sort of mesmerizing beauty to it, but Jim turned away to look at Spock.

"The singularity grows according to our calculations," Spock said, his voice growing quieter.

Then the proximity alarms started blaring, and not for the black hole.

A massive ship appeared in front of them, dark and foreboding, with long, cruel-looking tentacles. Even one of those protrusions dwarfed their little _Jellyfish_.

The hailing signal beeped, and Nero's face appeared on screen. "Spock!" Nero hissed. "You've done it, haven't you? You've saved your people, and all it cost you was the death of mine!"

The sleek _Narada_ 's previously smooth lines and curves had been turned into this monstrous thing? Jim was no longer surprised at the reports of disappearing ships and suspicions of Nero's part in them. The Romulans must have been developing this weaponry secretly, and had given Nero the prototype in order to act out his revenge.

"You used me, Spock!" Nero spat. "You used my ship, my crew, my trust in you! But I'm not finished!"

But he was. As alarmed shouts broke out over Nero's own bridge, the singularity had taken hold of the _Narada_ as well. It was pulling him in too, and he had been closer to its heart.

"Spock!" Nero roared. "I will have my vengeance! I will have--"

But the singularity consumed the _Narada_.

Spock quickly ejected the log buoy, but Jim didn't know if it would last long there, in this most dangerous section of space. The _Jellyfish_ too had been caught in the singularity's pull, and would not be able to escape.

But it was all right. Jim felt a wave of peace wash over him. "Spock," he murmured, and reached out to cup Spock's face with the hand not holding Spock's.

"Jim," Spock returned tenderly, his own free hand moving to Jim's face. His fingers stilled on the meld points, and he brought their minds together one final time.

They would never separate from this. They would never separate again.

Jim had no regrets.


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue  
2258 - Reboot Universe**

 

There was a remarkable amount of work involved in preparing to live in the past of an alternate timeline.

One of the first things they had to do was register with the Department of Temporal Investigations, which had at least managed to procure identification for them. They decided to keep their own names -- both James Kirk and Spock were common enough names among their peoples, and keeping them made this universe feel a little less alien.

Besides, they very much intended to keep a low profile. No one should have reason to connect them to their younger counterparts.

And already plenty of people knew who they were. Jim hadn't exactly kept it secret, and Spock had only said they were already in an alternate timeline and therefore any possible changes they made would have no effect on the future of the timeline -- beyond the effect any individual being had, at any rate.

But even given that, they hadn't yet come to a decision about how much they would reveal about their own universe.

The destruction of Vulcan had changed the map of the timeline significantly. There were only about 15,000 Vulcans left from their own planet, plus the scattered millions of their few colonies, which meant it was highly likely most of the Vulcans from future generations of their own universe would never be born.

Vulcans were some of the greatest scientific minds in the galaxy. They had created numerous technological innovations -- innovations that might never now be discovered, or discovered much later than they had been in Jim's universe.

Jim and Spock had not yet been able to decide on their responsibilities regarding discussion of future events. Spock was inclined not to interfere, but he had to concede Jim had a point when he mentioned the future invasions of the Borg and the Dominion, and Jim's question of whether the Federation would be able to handle them as well without all of Vulcan's previous contributions. Putting the Federation's guard up now could help them significantly in the long run.

But Spock too had a point when he said they did not have the ability to tell the future and could not know if the Borg and the Dominion would even be an issue, and they could not know exactly what would result from warning the Federation.

They still argued about it, but they had time. They'd come to a decision eventually.

In the meantime, Spock had been looking for planets on which to establish a main Vulcan colony.

Vulcans were not the colonizing force humans were. They had a few, but ultimately Vulcans were very connected to their planet, in a way mostly spiritual but also partly biological. Pon farr had not been dependent on Vulcan, after all, but it had always been the urge of every Vulcan in his Time to return to the sands of his home. Even Spock had felt that urge, though they had not always been able to indulge it.

The Vulcans need a place for the Vulcans as a _people_ to call home. The new planet would not be Vulcan, but as future generations were born, perhaps those children would grow up with a connection to the home of their birth. But they needed a place that would ground them better than to just be sorted into their already existing colonies.

Spock had even found a likely planet, and was organizing a joint Vulcan and Starfleet expedition to ascertain its suitability. Alpha Sigma II was of a comparable size and distance from its sun, and also primarily desert, though it also included some few oceans. Like Vulcan, though, it was primarily land rather than water.

They also spent a lot of time simply walking their old haunts in Starfleet Academy, which had once been home to both of them. They had a couple of times run across Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty, and once McCoy, who had looked entertainingly disturbed at meeting an older Spock.

But they had not yet seen their counterparts, and they had not yet seen Uhura. Jim was actually quite relieved about that last, since he had no idea what to say to her. He was also pretty sure that any interactions of his with Spock she observed would be a dead giveaway about the state of their relationship.

He'd confessed her revelation about herself and the younger Spock to his Spock a few days into their stay on Earth, still disquieted by it.

"Jim," Spock had said in response, watching him. "You are bothered by this, beyond the possessiveness even you know is irrational. I am yours, and I will always be yours. You even acknowledge my counterpart's right to make his own decisions."

Jim grimaced. "Yes, I know," he conceded. "It's not like I need another Spock when I've got my hands full with just the one." His expression eased when Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "But I'm not sure how to explain it."

"I will listen, despite your level of articulation," Spock assured him, and Jim made a face at him.

"Funny," he said. He paused, gathering his thoughts. "It's just...I don't know what I think about destiny. I don't know if it exists, or even if I want it to. I mean, I've always been one for self-determination." Spock nodded. "But I've also found it...sort of comforting. I mean, I've worked very hard for my command and for my relationship with you. They didn't just fall into my lap, a product of a nebulous destiny. But they've also...felt so completely and utterly _right_. Like this was how my life should go in order to be as amazing as it could be.

"You're so much a part of that, Spock. Honestly, you're even most of it. Even back during the first five-year mission, I was willing to sacrifice my captaincy if it would keep you safe. My feelings for you -- they've been part of my foundation for a very long time. So have your feelings for me. And it just...shakes me, a bit, to think of a Spock who's not in love with James Kirk."

"T'hy'la," Spock said, and Jim knew he used the word deliberately, "do remember our counterparts have only just met. Who knows what the future will bring for them?"

Jim nodded. "I know that too," he agreed. "But I mean...damn. It's just, when I think of how long it took you to accept your love for me, and I think of this younger Spock in a relationship so much sooner..." He shrugged. "It's disturbing. I'm not doubting the strength of your love for me, but..."

"As much as I might wish it otherwise," Spock said slowly, "for Uhura's sake if nothing else, have you thought perhaps it is the strength of the emotions that provides the difference? Do remember I once attempted a relationship with Leila Kalomi before I met you, though it ended very quickly when she grew unsatisfied with my inability to be demonstrative. But Jim, I also did not love her, no matter what she wished. I simply found her a logical choice for a relationship partner until it became clear I could not meet her needs. She was someone whose company I enjoyed and who was intelligent and a scientist. Nyota Uhura, though not a scientist, fulfills the other criteria. And I do remember there being an attraction between the two of us in the early years of our mission, though I decided against pursuing it." He gave Jim a fond look. "My captain consumed much of my time."

Jim felt simultaneously lightened and burdened. If this were true, God, poor Uhura. But as much as Jim hated to admit it, Spock's reasoning made a lot more sense than the younger Spock being able to accept being in love at this point in his life.

But he was different. Jim couldn't forget that. Nero's destruction of the _Kelvin_ had rippled out to affect the younger Spock, and who knew what kind of difference it had made.

Though this younger Spock, from what Jim had seen, didn't seem to find accepting emotion any easier than his own Spock had in his earlier years. The younger Spock was just not as good at repressing it.

Jim shook his head to dispel the thoughts. "I think I'm going to stop worrying about it," he decided. "I'll just depress myself, and give myself a headache, and those haven't yet been eliminated in this time."

Spock gave the twitch of his lips that was his equivalent of a smile. "A wise choice," he said. "You must think of your health."

"I have Bones for that," Jim replied, waving it off and grinning. "You know he sent me a message reminding me not to overexert myself?" The message had given Jim hope that Bones wouldn't always find him so disconcerting. His own Bones had often just needed some time to get used to strange new ideas.

"Dr. McCoy has always been very particular about your health," Spock agreed. "His behavior seems to be another universal constant."

Jim nodded, and they left the subject of their relationship and destiny behind. Jim couldn't help but feel cheered, though. If their entire core crew could meet seven years early and end up on the _Enterprise_ together, and if the younger Kirk could end up meeting Spock on Delta Vega despite having had an entire planet to get lost in, and if the younger Kirk could still end up the captain of the _Enterprise_ despite the changes in the timeline...

It didn't seem so unlikely the younger Kirk and Spock would be intrigued by each other, which already seemed to be happening. And from that, it also didn't seem so unlikely that their relationship would evolve from there until they possibly meant as much to each other as Jim knew he and his Spock did.

All he could do, though, was wait and see.

\--

A few days after the younger Kirk's official promotion to captain, and after an afternoon spent calming Kirk's nerves, Jim hunted down Spock. He found him meditating in their garden, and a wave of fondness washed over him -- Spock could have been meditating in their temperature-controlled room, but instead he sat out there in the garden. In the wind, which was, of course, cold even to Jim.

Spock liked to test himself sometimes -- vary up the conditions under which he'd meditate. He also liked being out there among growing things, and said he'd grown accustomed to it from all the time he spent on Earth, which was certainly abundant with verdant plantlife.

But, Jim thought, he also sat out there because he knew it was the first place Jim would look for him. Jim didn't like spending too much time in their room at the Academy. The room was fine for when they slept or pursued intimate activities, but otherwise it was too small.

Jim carefully knelt in front of him, deciding to join him in meditation. He found the sense of _Spock_ in his mind, and, taking a few deep breaths, matched himself to that sense.

Some time later, feeling very centered, Jim opened his eyes. He'd timed it well; Spock was also just exiting his trance. The smile appeared in his eyes when he saw Jim waiting for him.

"Jim. How was your afternoon?"

Jim made a noncommittal sound. "The kid wanted my advice on all the paperwork that comes with preparing for a mission. He had it well in hand when I left. I think he'll do okay, Spock."

"I am more than confident in his abilities. He is James Kirk, after all."

Jim laughed softly. "And people tease me about my ego! I'm going to have to send anyone who complains about it to you."

"I will certainly assure anyone who asks that I have it monitored carefully."

"Monitored for what?" Jim grinned. Then, while he still had the upper hand on Spock, he asked, "Did you do anything interesting today?"

Spock gave him a look that said he wasn't fooled, but he answered the question. "My younger counterpart sought me out earlier." He paused, and when Jim gave him an impatient look, he smiled slightly and continued. "He wanted advice on his future career path. I believe you intrigued him in your brief interactions."

"Oh?" Of course, that had been his purpose, but he was glad to hear Spock thought it fulfilled.

"Indeed. He said you assisted him in beginning to process his grief and anger."

Jim nodded slowly. "That's all well and good," he said, "but what, exactly, did he need advice on?"

"Whether to remain in Starfleet, or to resign his commission and join the rest of the survivors in building the colony," Spock replied calmly.

Jim frowned. For the younger Spock to leave Starfleet, and not serve on the _Enterprise_ \-- it just seemed wrong. But no -- Spock was too serene for that to have been the outcome of their conversation, and his eyes glittered with amusement.

"I assume you advised him to remain in Starfleet, then," Jim said.

Spock inclined his head. "I merely assured him you and I intended to join the colony," he replied. "He agreed it was not necessary to have two Spocks attempting the same work."

Jim snorted. "He was leaning towards Starfleet anyway, wasn't he?"

"Indeed. I did receive the impression he found the younger James Kirk...to be an interesting puzzle, particularly with you as another example. He seemed up to the task of deciphering the illogical behavior of a Kirk."

Jim smiled. "Then I wish him luck," he said. "The kid's going to need a competent first officer. Someone who will steady his impulses."

"And my younger counterpart will need someone to show him the value of intuition and instinct and its place in command, as well as the rewards of the emotional path."

"It does have plenty of rewards," Jim agreed. He held out his first two fingers, and closed his eyes at the buzz of love and joy that rushed through him when Spock's fingers met his.

He curled his fingers around Spock's, keeping them locked together. The Earth kept spinning, shifting towards night, and the air grew colder, but Jim barely felt it.

This was a brand new universe, and they would be all right.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [From Nexus To Narada (Fanmix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651527) by [keatsinqueue (crediniaeth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crediniaeth/pseuds/keatsinqueue)




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